Lord of Fire, Prince of Ice
by Estella Greenleaf
Summary: Slash, i.e. m/m relationship. Don't read if you don't like! AU. A/L, A/H Prophecy spoke of a Man holding the greatest power on Middle Earth. But prophecies were sometimes fulfilled in unlikely ways.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: Don't own anything.  
  
This is the evil plot bunny I spoke of. After being tormented for almost three months, I finally broke down and decided to give it a chance. This is something that just absolutely refused to go away. But it should be kind of short. That said, it is probably not as well-written as my other fictions....  
  
Also, I am not claiming to be original here. Another Aragorn/Legolas. The idea of the poison is from another story I read. I just couldn't remember which one, so if any readers remember, please let me know so I can accredit that author properly =)  
  
Please, please review. I won't continue if I don't get 10 reviews on the prologue since I am aware that this story is unlike all the other things I have written. It is a lot darker and kind of evil...  
  
Warnings:  
  
This is a slash story. Male/male relationship. If you don't like, please don't read.  
  
This story is at this moment rated PG13/R. I am going to tone down most of the sexual content. But given that this story was originally NC-17 in my mind, there will be some.  
  
This story is significantly alternate universe. All the characters are significantly out of character from the book and movies. Aragorn is sort of evil; Legolas is sort of cold-blooded. Also, I moved characters around. I know Saruman is supposed to be in Orthanc and Dol Guldur is supposed to be the base of Sauron as the Necromancer earlier in the Third Age. But please bear with me and my alternate universe.  
  
Rape warning, sort of... No, Legolas is not going to get raped. I am in love with him, remember =) No one touches my Legolas.. (okay, he isn't mine. A girl can dream, right? )  
  
This story is unbeta-ed at the moment, so please forgive its many errors. I proof-read my stuff a number of times before posting, but there will still be mistakes in there. I am putting this in the warning section in case people are offended by grammatical errors =)  
  
Premise:  
  
An ancient prophecy spoke of a Man who held the key to the greatest power in Middle Earth. On his twenty-fifth birthday, this Man would rise to meet his destiny; Arda would once again be united.  
  
Prologue:  
  
"Please, Larien, stay with me," pleaded the King of Mirkwood.  
  
His pregnant Queen was returning from her visit to Lothlòrien when she was attacked by a band of Orcs. She was hit by a poisonous arrow; though the wound was not fatal, the venom was slowing killing the Elf. One by one, the poison destroyed her senses, until its victim lost all feelings and simply faded away.  
  
It was at death's door that the Queen went into labor. The child she had been carrying for the past nine months seemed to have a will of his own. He did not wished to perish with his mother. The King quickly sent for the midwife, hoping to save the babe at least. But before the birthing was finished, Larien breathed her last. The midwife decided to perform surgery to take the babe from the dead Elf's womb, something that had never been done before. The operation was successful; a healthy child was salvaged from the body of the deceased Queen.  
  
But when Thranduil found out what had been done, he considered his youngest son an aberration of nature. He condemned the midwife to exile and gave the babe to the royal nurse with explicit instructions to keep the child out of his sight. As much as the King hated the baby, it was his own flesh and blood. Thranduil would ensure that it was cared for properly. But that was the extent of his attention; he did not even wished to name the child himself. It was the midwife who named the babe Legolas before her sentence was carried out.  
  
Time passed as the young Prince grew up as a shadow in his own palace. All knew of the story of his birth and considered him a bearer of bad luck and destruction. The Elf never knew what it meant to care or to be cared for. He grew up completely devoid of emotions, as if the poison that had taken all his mother's senses had stolen his feelings as well.  
  
It was not long, however, that Thranduil discovered his son's hidden talents. Legolas was a mage. Even at a young age, his powers reveled those of the ancient Elves. Added to his magic were the Prince's physical abilities. Though the Elf had never been through formal training, he could handle most weapons through mimicry alone. It was then that the King saw a use for his hated child.  
  
Through meticulous training, Thranduil transformed his son into an assassin, superior to any in Middle Earth. Wearing the mask of a blue dragon, the young Elf struck fear into the hearts of the enemies of the free peoples of Middle Earth. No matter how dangerous the missions were, Legolas always returned safely, much to the chagrin of his kin. So it was, for over five hundred years, the Prince of Ice existed only for killing... until the day destiny calls.  
  
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The black gates opened as the Nazgûl rode out into the misty night. This night was to be remembered as the darkest in the history of Middle Earth. Thick clouds shielded the world from the silvery moon and glittering stars. It was as if these celestial beings of light knew of the tragedy that was about to happen and were covering their eyes with their gloomy veils of clouds; for they did not have the heart to watch helplessly as the events unfold.  
  
A small group of Men traveled in the pitch darkness of the forest in Southern Mirkwood. The woods were eerily silent. No breeze, tree or creature would make a sound. Stealthily, the hunters of the night stalked their preys, closing their trap, awaiting their opportunity to taste their victims' blood. Out of the blackness of the woods they came, dealing out death on swift wings. Though the Dunedains fought valiantly, they were significantly outnumbered. In a matter of minutes, the forest was still once more, mourning the loss of a great leader of Men. The cries of a single babe broke the somber silence of the night... a child who would shape the future of Middle Earth.  
  
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	2. Chapter One

Disclaimer: Don't own anything.  
  
Please, please review. No more chapters unless I get 10 reviews, even if story is short..  
  
A/N: I have decided to keep the rape warning in every single chapter, even if the posting did not contain the actual content. This is just so people would keep it in mind when reading so I don't get complaints when it actually occurs. Well, actually, I am not even sure if things will qualify as non-consensual. But anyway, enough babbling and on with the story.  
  
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Chapter One:  
  
"My lord, we have captured one of the enemies' generals," reported an Orc soldier.  
  
His companion added, "We have been torturing him for information, but he proved to be extremely stubborn. Lord Saruman wished us to continue, but we fear the prisoner would die before breaking."  
  
A masculine, gravelly voice answered from behind the silken screens that shielded a lavish bed from the common soldier's eyes, "Ignore Saruman. He is nothing but a fool. I do not know why Father put up with him. Bring the prisoner to me."  
  
After the soldiers left the room, a Man rose gracefully from the bed. He was clad in only a pair of tight, black leather breeches, which cling to his strong limbs like a second skin. Without a shirt, the hard muscles of his torso were in plain sight for all to admire. His unkempt dark hair framed a strong square jaw and elegantly chiseled features, softened slightly by the beginnings of a beard. His steely grey eyes burnt with an intensity that could pierce deep into a person's soul. Everyone about the Man spoke of power, a raw untamed masculine sensuality and vigor unparalleled by any other creature on Middle Earth.  
  
Casually, the Man pulled a black cotton shirt over his head. Black was Aragorn's color. It had always been, ever since his sire commented on how wonderfully black suited him. Within minutes, a naked Elf, covered in blood and dirt was brought into the chambers. With some force, the pathetic creature was thrown onto the floor at his feet.  
  
Aragorn studied the Elf closely. The insolent prisoner returned his stare without flinching, allowing the Man a clear view of the most breathtakingly beautiful hazel green eyes he had ever seen. The Elven soldier was uncommonly handsome. Though stained with blood, his finely sculpted features and well-shaped lips were still visible. Added to that was a very desirable, lithe body, completely with shapely legs and firm round buttocks. Aragorn found himself aching for a taste of the Elf.  
  
Soon. He will be my early birthday present to myself. the Man told himself with a secret smile. Aragorn knew that no matter how they tortured this one, he would not betray his friends. They would have to get their information through other means. It was something that Saruman and his sire could never understand; while pain was a powerful weapon, so was pleasure. Fear may be a useful tool, but affection was ten times more potent. This one would never break under torture; but he would give Aragorn everything if the Man could win his heart. Breaking eye contact with the handsome Elf, the Man ordered his servants to draw a bath and bring him medical supplies and some food. He would begin his work in charming his Elven prisoner this very moment.  
  
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Haldir was too weak to fight when the Man laid him gently into the bath. He was surprised that the water did not sting his wounds. When he first noted Aragorn adding herbs to his water, the Elf had thought it was another form of the endless torture inflicted on him. He never thought the medicine was added to ease his pain.  
  
The Guardian of Lòrien was even more surprised when the Man gently cleansed his wounds before washing his hair. As Aragorn skillfully massaged the Elf's scalp, Haldir could not hold back his small sighs of satisfaction. The Elf was captured three days ago when he offered to lead a small group to act as decoy. Ever since then, he had known nothing but pain. Though Haldir knew he should be suspicious of the Man's intentions, he could not stop himself from being graceful for Aragorn's gentle treatment. This temporary relieve from the intense torture was simply too great a gift to be ignored.  
  
A small part of the Elf believed there was still good in the Man, despite his upbringing. If only there was a way to convince Aragorn of the truth. On the eve of the Man's birth, the alignment of the stars told of the fulfillment of an ancient prophecy; that this newborn babe would hold the destiny of Middle Earth. Unfortunately, the ancient Elves and Istari were not the only ones who could read the stars; Sauron too, though without physical form, knew of Aragorn's potential and wanted to pilfer the Man's powers as his own. Without warning, the Dark Lord struck, murdering the babe's parents and stealing the child to raise as his own son.  
  
Numerous attempts were made to free Aragorn from Sauron's clutches, but to no avail. The baby grew up believing the Dark Lord was his father; that he was Sauron's heir. Aragorn, who was to be the hope of Men, became the Lord of Fire, the leader of Dark Lord's forces; a fierce and ruthless killer who spared no one, leaving a trail of fire and blood in his wake.  
  
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"What's your name?" inquired the Man as he lifted the Elf out of the water and began drying him lovingly.  
  
"Haldir," replied the Guardian of Lòrien without thought. Immediately, the Elf mentally chastised himself for telling the Man. All the Orcs could get out of him were screams of agony with their endless questioning. And here he was, giving Aragorn his name without a fight.  
  
"I am Aragorn. I am sure you know already. You are my guest now; no one would ever hurt you again," said the Man with a winning smile as he probed deep into Haldir's eyes once more.  
  
The Elf found that he could not endure the heat of Aragorn's stormy eyes any longer. He was from Lothlòrien; he was accustomed to Lady Galadriel's piercing gaze that could read his heart. He did not understand why he would shy before a mere Man's stare, even if Aragorn seemed nice and was extremely good-looking.  
  
Pleased with the effect he was having on his prisoner, Aragorn laid the Elf gently onto his bed and began treating his wounds. There were numerous cuts, lashes and bruises marring Haldir's desirable body. The Man made a mental note to take this up with Saruman. He should have been informed at once if any enemy of note was captured. It was his right as leader of the army and his father's heir to decide the treatment of prisoners. By keeping Haldir's imprisonment a secret, Saruman had undermined his authority.  
  
The Man knew the fallen Istari was never content to be a mere follower of Sauron. The wizard wanted the Ring for himself. Aragorn had warned his father of Saruman's treacherous thoughts, but the Dark Lord merely laughed and said an untamed wolf had its use; as long as the owner was careful, there was no need to put the animal down immediately. As the Man respected his sire immensely, he tried his best to avoid conflicts with Saruman. But it was quickly becoming difficult to get along with the wizard.  
  
Besides, if his loyal servants had not informed him, the Elf would have been killed without giving them a single hint of useful information. Though his prisoner had only told him his name, it was enough for Aragorn to know they have captured someone of importance. Haldir was the Guardian of Lòrien, trusted by the Lord and Lady of the Golden Woods. It was very likely that he knew where the One Ring and the other three Elven Rings of Power were.  
  
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Aragorn took his time treating the fair-haired Elf's injuries, stroking him with deliberate tenderness as he applied healing ointments. Haldir was helpless against the Man's gentle assault. He knew where this would lead; he knew he should be fighting Aragorn, but his rebellious body refused to obey. The Man's touch felt so amazingly good; it was like a drug, addicting; each caress left Haldir craving for more. It was not long before his voice too began to disobey the Elf's mind, making little moans of pleasure as Aragorn replaced his bodily pain with physical bliss.  
  
Watching the handsome creature below him moved towards his touch, the Man knew the Elf was his for the taking. His carnal desires warred with his sense of duty to obtain information. In the end, after an intense inner strength, his loyalty to his sire won. Laying a sweet kiss on Haldir's lips, he whispered, "I want you, my beautiful one. But I want this to be as pleasurable for me as it will be for you. I will wait until your wounds heal."  
  
Before the Elf could stop himself, he smiled back fondly at his captor, thinking there was definitely good in the Man still.  
  
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Today, a rare light graced the dungeons of Mirkwood. Lady Galadriel shone like a star in the gloomy darkness of the extensive caverns. It had been 1000 years since she had visited this place. She had never thought she would return; but necessity had driven her here today. Haldir had been captured. The Elf Witch had seen in her mirror how the heartless Lord of Fire would trick the innocent Guardian into betraying their secrets. All would be lost if Aragorn recovered the Ring and returned it to Sauron. There was only one who could change that future; someone locked away in these dungeons 1000 years ago on the charges of kin-slaying.  
  
"There must be another way, my Lady," said Thranduil.  
  
"He is the only one who can bring Haldir back from Dol Guldur. We both know it," replied Galadriel.  
  
"He killed my eldest son, the Crown Prince of my lands. I vowed on Maeglin's grave that he would never see the light of day again," exclaimed the King vehemently.  
  
"I told you before and I will tell you again. He was not the killer," said the Lady as she hurried to the cave that held their last hope.  
  
Her guilt was becoming physically suffocating. It was her fault that the prisoner lost his freedom, that the best she could do was convinced the Mirkwood King to spare his life. Only three knew the truth of the incident; these were the Lord and Lady of the Golden Woods and their daughter, Celebrian, who had departed Middle Earth.  
  
The Crown Prince of Mirkwood had long admired Celebrian for her beauty. Despite the fact that the Elf maiden was already the wife of Lord Elrond of Rivendell, the Prince pursued her with fervor. One night in Lothlòrien 1000 years ago, Maeglin attempted to force himself upon the Elven beauty. In her fright, Celebrian drew her dagger and threatened the Prince not to come any closer. What she did not expect was Maeglin to trip and fall upon her outstretched dagger. The Prince was killed instantaneously.  
  
When her daughter told her of the incident, Galadriel knew they must remain silent to protect the honor of all those involved. Some things happened then that the Lady did not intend. The body of Maeglin was discovered by his youngest brother, the only Elf feared and hated by his own kindred. Naturally, the unfortunate Elf was accused of the murder. Though the Elf Witch could not tell the whole truth, she did try her best to clear Legolas' name. But nothing could change Thranduil's mind once it was made. The King had always hated his emotionless child and secretly wished to be rid of him.  
  
Galadriel was certain that the Mirkwood King had thought imprisonment in the dungeons would be the end of Legolas. It was why Thranduil agreed to show 'mercy' to his youngest son. But the King had underestimated the Prince. Even after 1000 years of isolation in a dungeon, Legolas survived. Elves could not exist in dark, enclosed places like caves and dungeons because they loved the nature and all things that lived. It was from this love that the Elves drew their strength; they would fade from grief if they were separated from all other living creatures. But since the Prince of Ice had no feelings, he did not feel the keen loss the other Elves would have felt at his imprisonment. To Legolas, being in a dungeon was not much different from being surrounded by the beauty of the forest.  
  
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"Legolas, we need your help. We will grant you freedom in exchange for your assistance," said the Lady.  
  
"Why should I help you? You know I don't mind my imprisonment," replied the Prince quietly. He had not spoken to anyone in almost 1000 years; the sound of his voice was very strange to his ears.  
  
"Please, Legolas. If you do not help us, Sauron will regain the Ring and the whole of Middle Earth will be covered in darkness," pleaded Galadriel.  
  
"And you think I care? Long ago, I might still harbor some secret hope that if I did his bidding, ada [father] would like me. These 1000 years had cured me of that delusion," said the young Elf.  
  
"You killed your own brother! What made you think I would approve of that?" yelled Thranduil.  
  
"I did not kill Maeglin. The Lady knows as well as I do who was the real culprit. I will not defend myself if the Lady of Light will not speak for me," replied the Prince softly, with a trace of sadness and maybe even anger in his voice. Galadriel noted these small signs of emotions and considered her next strategy.  
  
"They have Haldir. He will die if you do not help him," said the Lady evenly. She had long suspected that Legolas had some sort of feelings for the Guardian of Lòrien. She was certain Haldir was the reason the young Elf visited the Golden Woods so often.  
  
If there were one name that could arouse the slightest of positive emotions in the Prince of Ice, it would be Haldir. The Guardian was the only person in this world who had ever cared about Legolas, the only one who ever treated the young Elf like a person, not some killing machine. The Prince knew that if he had a normal childhood and if he could feel, he would be in love with Haldir. The older Elf was handsome, gentle, trusting and kind.  
  
Legolas had made it a point to visit the archer whether he had time. Besides the Prince's constant need to ascertain his gentle friend was doing well, spending time with Haldir awoke in him small stirrings of joy; a treasure which the young Elf would always remember as long as he lived. It was during one of these visits that he found Maeglin murdered and lost his freedom.  
  
The young Elf knew then that his fate was sealed. Legolas could not abandon the Lòrien Elf in the hands of the enemy. He would risk his life and become an assassin once more. He would not be doing it for the good of a Middle Earth he cared nothing about; he would be doing it for the only person who had ever showed him kindness.  
  
"Well very, release me," said the Prince quietly as he walked towards the door. Little did Legolas realize he would embark on a journey that would change his life forever. 


	3. Chapter Two

Disclaimer: Don't own anything.  
  
Please, please review.  
  
Elise: Thanks =) I will change it as soon as I get home and repost. The chapter is on my home computer and I am writing in lab.  
  
Tenshiamanda: I like Thranduil as loving father too. I see him as the way I portrayed him in Shadow and Prince. But since everyone kind of has a make-over in personality here, the King of Mirkwood is not going to be spared =)  
  
A/N: Okay. This is bad. I know I said I would not write if I don't get enough reviews, but this annoying little bunny won't let me do anything else. I honestly tried to start a new chapter of Never Been Kissed, but Legolas and Aragorn refused to be sweet and adorable.... So here I am, writing more....  
  
Rape warning again. Sort of... since it's really not non-consensual..  
  
This chapter has R part, so be warned.  
  
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Chapter Two:  
  
A shadow glided silently through the darkness of the forest, memorizing every detail of his surroundings. The hunter arrived three days ago. Since then, he had spent every waking moment studying the area, understanding the secrets of these woods. His experience told him that this was his most dangerous mission to date. He would need to know this forest like the back of his hand if he were to have a chance of rescuing his only friend.  
  
To break into Dol Guldur and assassinate someone would be easy; Legolas was a master at avoiding being seen if he wished. The Elf knew he would have no problems entering and leaving the fortress if he were alone. But to bring Haldir back safely was a different matter. The Prince had no doubt his friend would be heavily guarded; in addition, the Guardian would likely be under the watchful eyes of Saruman and Aragorn. Open confrontations would be much harder to avoid.  
  
Stealth, speed and deadly precision had long been Legolas' most powerful allies; in all his previous missions, none of his enemies had time to react when the Prince of Ice seemingly materialized out of thin air to deliver his touch of death. But this time, the assassin would have to face battle alone, with nothing other than his strength and wits to rely on. It would be a confrontation with his toughest opponents yet, a fallen Istari and a Man destined to hold the future of Middle Earth in his hands.  
  
Regardless of the odds, this was a fight the Elf would not allow himself to lose. Legolas did not really care whether he lived or died; in a world without emotions, existence was meaningless. Ending it would be no great loss. But this time, Haldir's life hung on the balance. Even after 1000 years, the Prince still remembered his gentle friend's innocence and love for life. Legolas would not let a beautiful soul like that perish. Haldir did not belong in the darkness of the Halls of Mandos.  
  
This was why the assassin had taken so much time to deliberate his options and survey the surroundings. He wanted their escape to be planned to the smallest precise detail. There was no room for mistakes. The Prince had mapped out the routes and timing of the Orc patrols. In addition, he had sneaked into the fortress the night before to familiarize himself with its endless corridors and the location of the sentinels. As Legolas had yet to discover where Haldir was held, the Elf intended to return to Dol Guldur again tonight.  
  
The Prince needed to know the exact location of his friend before he could make his move. The plan was rather simple in nature. Legolas would steal into Dol Guldur and rescue his friend with as little confrontation as possible. However, the Elf was sure that the whole place would become aware of their escape and try to stop them. The trick would be in how to successfully break out of the fortress. Once out of the fort, they would have no problems blending in with the forest to elude their pursuers.  
  
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It's been a week since Haldir had been given to the Man's care. More and more, the silver-haired Elf found himself attracted to his captor. Aragorn was a very special person. Despite his reputation for being a ruthless killer, the Man did not rule his Orcs through fear. He had gained their loyalty through his actions. The Elf was surprised to find Aragorn a just Man, as prompt in giving his soldiers credit when due as he was in dealing out punishment. For someone this powerful, the Lord of Fire was remarkably open to suggestions. He did not flaunt his authority as Saruman or the Dark Lord did; the Man preferred to lead his followers by example. Haldir knew without a doubt that if Aragorn were to resume his rightful position as the King of Men, Middle Earth would be saved.  
  
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Aragorn could see the Elf falling in love with him a little more each day. Haldir thought him a great Man, a natural born leader whose integrity shone through despite his upbringing. His prisoner was far more innocent and gullible than the Man expected, thinking that his actions were dictated by the decency in his heart.  
  
The truth was that Aragorn could not care less about his soldiers; they were merely weaklings born to sacrifice themselves for the Dark Lord. But weak as they were, his father could never retake Middle Earth without their assistance. And pawns who believed they were important in their leader's eyes were much more useful than those forced into servitude. They would be willing to die for their master, thinking to repay his faith and kindness. Ugly, blood-thirsty beasts that they were, the Orcs were not without feelings; their hearts could be won and their loyalty exploited. Through little shows of trust and respect, Aragorn had built his sire an army that would gladly sacrifice everything to further the Dark Lord's goals.  
  
The Man was glad to allow Haldir to indulge in his delusions. It made his job of winning the Elf's heart so much easier. Through his careful treatments, the wounds on his prisoner were almost completely healed. It was time to take their relationship to a new level. Tonight would be the time when Aragorn would claim the Guardian of Lòrien as his own. Tonight, he would make Haldir his, both in body and soul.  
  
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In the eerie silence of the night, a predator stealthily stalked the endless corridors of Dol Guldur. The assassin had searched through almost the entire fortress for his captured friend. But Haldir was nowhere to be found. The only parts left uninvestigated were the West and East Towers of the castle, the residences of the fallen Istari and the infamous Lord of Fire.  
  
The Elf had left those parts to the last as he had hoped to avoid any direct dealings with those two. Legolas had met the Istari before, when he was still Saruman the White. The Prince knew the wizard's power and would rather delay facing him as an adversary. This left but one option; he would pay a visit to the leader of Sauron's Orcs.  
  
Legolas did not know what to expect from the Lord of Fire. Lady Galadriel told him that Aragorn was a Man to be reckoned with; for locked inside him was the greatest power on Middle Earth. She warned the Elven Prince not to underestimate the Man, or he would know the taste of defeat.  
  
The Elf mage did not need her warning to know that. Though the Lord of Fire was just a human who had yet discovered his true abilities, Legolas felt the urge to avoid him. Every instinct within the assassin would be on alert each time his thoughts turned to Aragorn. The Prince recognized it as a subtle warning; telling him that the Man would destroy him if he were not careful, like a fire would melt a sculpture of ice. With a strange sense of foreboding, Legolas climbed the steps of the West Tower, each step taking him closer to his destiny.  
  
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A loud cry pierced the silence of the night. It was soon followed by other similar sounds as the prisoner begged for release from this new torture. All thoughts vanished as the Prince heard the voice of his friend, moaning, pleading for mercy. Legolas knew how mentally strong the Lòrien archer was; he loathed to think what horrible things were being done to the handsome Elf to make Haldir react in such an undignified manner. With single-minded determination, the assassin hurried towards the source of the noise.  
  
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This was much better than Aragorn had expected. He knew the Elf had feelings for him; but he did not know that Haldir would surrender so willingly. The Man had anticipated more of a fight; that his prisoner would at least try to push him off or twist out of his grasp. He had not even imagined that the Elf would welcome his touch and return the favor with ardor. Aragorn decided he would be keeping Haldir for himself, even if the Guardian of Lòrien were to refuse to give him any other useful information. A bed partner like this silver-haired beauty was very difficult to come by in Dol Guldur.  
  
But judging from Haldir's reactions in bed, the Man was certain that given another week, the Elf would begin to confide in him. The innocent Elf could not stop his affections from showing in the woes of passion. Aragorn was now the keeper of his prisoner's heart as well as body.  
  
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The Man was far from sated but he knew his little Elf could not take much more of his skilful administrations. Though Aragorn would like to continue pursuing his own pleasure, he knew the importance of appearing to be considerate of Haldir's needs and well-being. Despite his wishes, Aragorn picked up the rhythm of his slow, deliberate strokes. At this new passionate pace, it was not long before the Man sent his lover over the edge into the blissful world of ecstasy. Aragorn was on the verge of finding his own release when the door to his chambers was kicked open unceremoniously. Before he could react, the intruder had placed a blade to the back of his neck.  
  
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Legolas burst into the scene of a Man violating the only Elf who had ever shown him kindness. Every fiber of his being was telling him to kill the culprit now; yet something stilled his hand. A mysterious force seemed to have rendered him motionless, his blade outstretched, poised to kill yet unable to finish what it meant to do. Perhaps this was the power of the Lord of Fire; that the Man had magic to protect him. And by rushing in without thought, Legolas had failed his friend.  
  
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Through the haziness following the most intense pleasure he had ever felt, Haldir sensed his lover tensed. The Elf could feel that the room had suddenly gone cold; it reminded the archer of his young friend, Legolas. The Prince always carried with him an aura of ice; his mere presence was enough to chill not only the hearts of his foes but also the very air around them. Curious, the Elf opened his eyes to find the young assassin holding a knife to the Man he loved.  
  
"No, Legolas. Please, stop," pleaded Haldir weakly.  
  
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Haldir's voice broke the spell that held both the Man and Elf mage immobile. Simultaneously, they moved; Aragorn leaned away from the blade, twisting around to grab the assassin's hand; Legolas, allowing the contact, used Aragorn's momentum to flip the Man. Aragorn now lay on his back beside the Lòrien archer, with the Prince's knee on his chest and blade pressed tight into his neck.  
  
Aragorn had not lost a one on one fight since he was fifteen. He could not believe he was bested by this slip of an Elf. He knew that the slender form of Elves often hid their true strength; but Aragorn was a strong and heavy Man, the intruder had just thrown him as if he weighted nothing. To add insult to injury, his captor was even more delicate looking than Haldir.  
  
Tresses of golden silk framed a well-shaped oval face. This Elf's features were exquisitely sculpted, with large stunning sapphire eyes and the delectable, rosy lips. Dressed in a dark green outfit designed to blend into the forest, the stranger's lithe form seemed willowy, betraying none of the power hidden within. If the Man were not incensed, he would find this intruder extremely desirable. But as things were, Aragorn just wanted to taste this stranger's blood upon his sword.  
  
"Please don't kill him," repeated Haldir.  
  
"Why? He touched you," asked the Prince as he increased the pressure of his knife on Aragorn's neck. A thin line of red was beginning to trickle down the point of contact.  
  
"I am still alive, am I not? If he forced me, I would be dead," replied the Lòrien Elf quietly. Haldir knew how he felt for the Man, but it did not mean he was not a little ashamed to admit it.  
  
Legolas stared at his friend and his captive for a long moment before speaking, "Get something that can be used as ropes then. Bind him tightly. We will take him with us."  
  
Haldir might have expected the Prince to grant his wish and not kill Aragorn. But to take the Man with them, that was beyond the Lòrien archer's wildest dreams. Maybe Lady Galadriel or Lord Elrond would have ways to convince Aragorn of his true identity. There was still some time before the Man's twenty-fifth birthday. Perhaps Aragorn would choose to use his powers for good instead of the Dark Lord. Quickly, the older Elf complied with Legolas' request, gagging the Man and securing his arms and legs with bandages.  
  
Satisfied that the furious Man was no longer a treat, Legolas gathered some of Aragorn's belongings into a pack. He then wrapped the struggling human in several layers of silken blinds and bedsheets before conveniently hefting his prisoner over his shoulders. Silently, the two Elves began to descend the stairs of the West Tower.  
  
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Aragorn knew what was about to happen. He would not allow himself to be taken as hostage. Despite his bonds and gag, the Man fought his captor as hard as he could, making enough rustling noise to draw the guard's attention. Aragorn had no doubt that his loyal followers would rescue him. That would be when the golden Elf would pay for this insult.  
  
Legolas read the Man's intentions like a book. Though he knew the locations of the guards and could avoid them, it would not do for Aragorn to draw attention like this. The Prince worried that the Orcs might become suspicious enough to leave their posts to investigate if the Man were to keep making such a ruckus. The Elf knew that his gentle friend was in love with the Lord of Fire; he did not wish to harm their captive unless absolutely necessary. But the Man was testing his resolve.  
  
"I have to silence him. Please forgive me," spoke the mage into Haldir's mind as he expertly found the spot at the base of the Man's neck through all the fabric and delivered a stunning blow.  
  
Aragorn did not even know what hit him when darkness suddenly claimed all his senses. Little did he know that he was about to embark on a journey which would change his world forever. 


	4. Chapter Three

Disclaimer: Don't own anything.  
  
Please, please review. They are my fuel.  
  
Sorry for not updating for so long. I was almost done with this story when I watched Two Towers and decided I need to rewrite the whole thing since Haldir deserved better. Naturally, that also means I need to apologize to all A/L lovers since you will have to wait a little longer. But don't worry, please do keep in mind that my favorite will always be our Elf Prince =) Also, there will be subtle, one-sided L/H. I as much wrote that in the last chapter; I will develop it a little here as well. Okay, enough 'announcement' type things and on with the story.  
  
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Chapter Three  
  
Slowly, awareness began to return to the Man. With consciousness came pain, a dull ache at the base of his neck. It was shortly followed by the sensation of someone touching him, smooth warm fingers and the brush of leather against his muscular thighs. Then came the realization that his legs were free and that his captor was within kicking range. Eyes still closed, Aragorn shifted left without warning, bringing his right knee up to deliver a stunning blow.  
  
At least, that was the Man's intention; his kick did not connect. His only reward was a loud ripping noise as his own momentum sent him rolling over onto his stomach. Apparently, his captor was trying to dress him when he regained consciousness. His breeches were half way up his legs when his sudden forceful movement tore them apart. Before Aragorn could make another move, a knee was pressed into his spine as unseen hands twisted his arm back painfully.  
  
"Try that again and I will kill you." As if demonstrating his point, his captor pressed his knee hard against the Man's back. Aragorn had no doubt that the assassin could break his spine anytime he wanted to.  
  
"What's going on?" Haldir returned from the stream to walk upon the scene of his friend threatening to kill his beloved. Casting a reproachful glare at the Prince, the older Elf was dismayed to see that Legolas remained unrepentant; in fact, the assassin just grounded his knee harder into their prisoner.  
  
The Lòrien Elf went to fetch water and bathe. Since their escape from Dol Guldur two nights ago, they had been running nonstop, trying to put a safe distance between themselves and the Dark Lord's fortress. Haldir knew he smelled of sex and the Man. He never had the opportunity to wash after their lovemaking the night he was rescued. The Guardian knew Legolas liked him, the younger Elf might even fancied himself in love. The Lòrien archer did not wish to subject the Prince to a constant reminder that he belonged to Aragorn now, both body and soul.  
  
Haldir was grateful to the Prince for rescuing him and taking Aragorn from Dol Guldur. But in debt as he was, he could not have Legolas mistreating their captive. The older Elf saw goodness in the Man. Aragorn's 25th birthday was several months away. There was still time to counter Sauron's evil plans to steal the greatest power in Arda if they could convince the Man of his true heritage. In order to turn the Lord of Fire into their ally, he must be treated with respect. They must earn Aragorn's trust. However, with the apparent animosity between his lover and friend, Haldir realized his plan would be much harder to put into action than he originally anticipated.  
  
"Aragorn is the son of Arathorn, heir to the throne of Gondor. You will treat him with respect," chastised Haldir, making sure his friend heard the disapproval in his voice. The Prince had always valued his opinion; the Lòrien Elf sincerely hoped Legolas would listen to him this time.  
  
"People who use others' feelings to achieve their goals do not deserve respect," countered the assassin as he released the Man. Gracefully, the Prince rose to his feet and left the cave.  
  
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The assassin could not trust himself to be in their prisoner's company any longer. He might kill the Lord of Fire and lose Haldir's friendship. Never had Legolas felt anything as strong as the anger he felt now. Legolas had seen into Aragorn's mind during their brief contact. The Man was only using his friend, seducing the Elf into telling him the location of the One Ring. There was no place for affections in the mind of the Lord of Fire; only schemes to manipulate emotions to control those around him. His followers trusted him with their lives and Haldir trusted him with his heart, yet Aragorn saw them as nothing more than pawns for his games.  
  
When Legolas was young, all he ever wanted was to be accepted by his people, especially his father. That was why he became an assassin; he had foolishly dreamed of gaining the other Elves' approval through destroying their enemies. However, with each kill, with each cruel word muttered by the very people he fought for, the Prince's heart began to wither and his emotions started to fade. He could barely felt heartbreak when the last remnant of his secret dream was dashed forever the day Thranduil condemned him to a life in the dungeons.  
  
Here was Aragorn, a Man gifted with all the things that Legolas could only dream of - the trust and devotion of all he encountered. But instead of treasuring these gifts, he toyed with them, as if they meant nothing. How could the Man abuse such wonderful gifts of love and loyalty? And how could the Valar be so unfair, withholding from Legolas the acceptance he worked so hard for, but bestowing it upon Aragorn who clearly did not deserve it?  
  
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Legolas never thought he would shed another tear. He had closed his heart a long time ago, since he learnt to accept that others would always see him as a freak of nature, no matter what happened. Now, a floodgate had been open and tears streamed unbridled down his exquisite face. To his surprise, his foolish hope of being loved had not left him completely despite his 1000 years' imprisonment. There was a tiny part of him that was still secretly wishing for the same thing. Haldir had been the only one who had ever brought joy to his bleak existence; the one he would love if he could. But now, Aragorn had taken the Lòrien Elf away as well. How he hated the Man!  
  
Yet, Legolas knew there was nothing he could do. Haldir was in love; his friend would not listen to his warning or advice. The Lòrien Elf would think that he was acting out of jealousy, trying to slander Aragorn for his own gain. It would destroy their current friendship, which was something the Prince would not allow. He needed to be calm and wait for his opportunity. The young Elf would expose Aragorn for a lying schemer the moment the Man's act slipped. He would fight this battle with patience and cunning; it was a fight Legolas could not afford to lose. Without the Lord of Fire, perhaps Haldir would learn to care for him as more than just a friend. A chance for happiness was at stake.  
  
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"Are you alright?" asked Haldir as he checked the Man for injuries.  
  
"Except that I cannot move my legs and right arm, yes," answered the Man sarcastically, trying to shrug the Elf's hands off. But the assassin had done a good job of immobilizing him, Aragorn could do nothing but lay there helplessly as the Lòrien archer inspected him.  
  
The Man hated his own helplessness; he knew Haldir was in love with him, but he still did not like being at anyone's mercy physically, even if it was someone he could control. Aragorn hoped the damage was not permanent; he would rather that his captor had killed him than left him a cripple.  
  
"You should not have fought Legolas. You are lucky that your injuries are not serious. You will be fine in a couple of days," quipped the Guardian of Lòrien as he gently turned the Man over. He needed to impress upon his beloved how dangerous the Prince truly was. Haldir did not wish Aragorn to give his young friend a reason to carry out his threat.  
  
"What am I supposed to do? Just lie there and let him have his way with me?" exclaimed the Man as he glared at the older Elf who had taken another pair of breeches from their pack and was beginning to dress him again.  
  
Aragorn knew what Haldir wanted to do; the naïve archer thought he could be turned. But his loyalty was only to his father. Though he was certain the Elves would not harm him, he knew that once he reached Thranduil's palace, his chances of escape would be minimal. He needed to outwit his captors before they reached their destination. The plan was to play Haldir against the assassin. It was clear that the younger Elf liked the Guardian of Lòrien. If the two Elves had a fight, Legolas might be distracted enough to give Aragorn the opportunity to escape.  
  
"He was just helping you dress," replied Haldir in defense of his friend. He knew Legolas was not the type interested in the pleasures of the flesh. Yet, he wondered why the assassin bothered trying to clothe Aragorn. It was getting cold, but to assume that the Prince had attempted to dress the Man to keep him warm would imply that the young Elf cared for his beloved's well being. That was something the Lòrien Elf was sure Legolas was incapable of.  
  
"I am so touched," mocked the Man with a false smile. "I am kidnapped by the most considerate Elf in Middle Earth. I must really thank him."  
  
The sarcasm was not lost on Haldir, who answered impassionedly, "You are not Sauron's son. The Dark Lord did not even have physical form, how could he possibly father you? He murdered your parents so he could raise you as his own. You should be fighting on our side, not his." There was a more personal reason for the Elf's desire to make Aragorn see the truth. He loved the Man dearly and wished to be bound formally to him. That would not be possible if Aragorn remained the evil Lord of Fire.  
  
"Please, Haldir, lies do not become you," retorted the Man as he tried to squirm away from the Elf's touch to convey his displeasure at the falsehoods Haldir had constructed. He was not very successful since he could not move his legs or right arm.  
  
"I am not lying. That's why we are taking you back to Mirkwood, so we can find a way to convince you," beseeched the archer as he gently laid a hand on Aragorn's chest.  
  
Aragorn could see the sincerity and pleading in his lover's eyes. It would not do to argue with his pawn any longer. Haldir must be head-over-heels in love with him to be of any use in his escape plans. "My head still hurts from the wounds your friend gave me. Let us not discuss these serious issues now. I promise that if Legolas does not touch me, I will not fight him again."  
  
Sensing that Haldir was satisfied to leave matters be for the moment, the Man purred with his most seductive smile, "I am not much of a sport in this state. But I am all yours if you wish."  
  
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Sweet words of encouragement, soft cries and urgent moans reverberated in the cave and spilled into the surrounding forest. Though imperceptible to most, these sounds assaulted the Prince's sensitive ears without mercy. Legolas hearing was extraordinarily sensitive even for an Elf. Despite the distance between himself and the lovers, he could hear even the softest of murmurs within the cave. The Prince was besieged with an unfamiliar feeling; he did not understand the racing of his blood, the constriction of his heart or the moisture in his eyes. All he knew was that he wanted it to stop; both this unwanted emotion and the proceedings at their camp.  
  
Before Legolas realized what was happening, a wave of power surged out of his body. The magic was so strong that the earth shook in response. The lovers stopped their tryst in surprise; the Elf mage could hear Haldir whispered his name from afar. The archer knew Legolas was the one who caused the disturbance. The Prince was appalled by this outburst of power. He had never lost control like this before. He was so ashamed that he began to flee, determined to keep the lovers out of range of all his senses. In his confusion, he did not realize he was leaving his two companions unguarded, vulnerable to the dangers of Mirkwood. 


	5. Chapter Four

Disclaimer: Don't own anything.  
  
Please, please review. Need fuel to write more. Too many things to write, too little time =)  
  
This story is AU. Orcs are not portrayed as mindless killing machines here. They are more like ugly, more violent versions of Elves, who can feel and think independently. Thought I should put this in as a warning. Kind of inspired by cast commentary about the 'poor Cave Troll' =)  
  
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Chapter Four:  
  
The lone assassin sensed the elements tense in warning. Instinctively, he spun to the left, avoiding the charge of a large spider. Quick as lightning, the Prince launched his counterstrike. The foul creature fell as a well-aimed arrow that penetrated its hard exoskeleton to puncture its black heart. The Elf could not understand why the beast attacked. Still agitated from his outburst of power, Legolas had not attempted to dim his aura. The coldness radiating from him should be enough to warn the spider off. He knew that his mere presence generated fear in the creatures of darkness; it was something the assassin had used to paralyze his prey in the past.  
  
Suddenly, it dawned on the Elf that the spider was on a killing frenzy, having tasted fresh blood. Anxiety gripped the Prince's heart as he realized Haldir was outside the range of his senses. In his shame, he had left his dearest friend and their prisoner defenseless at their camp. Legolas had brought the Lòrien Elf's weapons, but the Guardian had little experience fighting the spiders of Mirkwood. If the creatures attacked en masse, the archer would not stand a chance. In addition, the Man was still immobilized from the Prince's blows, ruining any chance of escape for the older Elf. Haldir would never leave his lover; he would die protecting Aragorn if need be.  
  
Reaching out with his magic, Legolas raced back to camp with all haste. To his dismay, he found the cave empty, except for three dead spiders littering the floor. The only traces of his companions were several droplets of blood deep inside the cave where the Man once lay, no doubt marking the position where the Lòrien Elf was cornered and finally subdued. It had been so long since the Prince felt pain. Now, the unfamiliar emotion tore at Legolas' heart as he thought he had failed the only Elf he cared for. So deep was the assassin's anguish that he did not sense the intruders upon his grief or the arrow flying towards him.  
  
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A company of twenty Orcs stopped at the entrance to the cave. Aragorn's second in command, Garekk, led the search for their missing master. Accompanied by thirty of the Man's elite guards, the general set out for their hunt as soon as Aragorn was discovered missing. Though Orcs abhorred sunlight, they knew the kidnapper had a night's head start on them. They were willing to die for their respected leader; enduring the harsh light of the sun was nothing. The company had been running nonstop, following the Man's scent. The Orcs knew they must intercept the kidnappers before they reached Thranduil's realm.  
  
With single-minded determination, the pursuit party followed their quarry. The Orcs were so intent on finding their lord that they ran directly into the spider's ambush. After a hard fight, they were able to drive back the eight-legged beasts; but in the process, they lost a third of their warriors. The hunters understood they did not have the strength to repel another spider attack. Yet, the Orcs pressed on, risking their lives to track their leader. Their persistence was rewarded as they found a lone Elf kneeling inside the cave, seemingly oblivious to their presence. Stealthily, Narod, captain of Aragorn's personal guards, notched an arrow and fired, intent on disabling their prey for questioning.  
  
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The Prince was jolted into the present when magic poured out of his being without his command for the second time in the night. As he surveyed his surroundings to see a broken arrow on the floor, he realized this second outburst of power had saved his life. As he turned his eyes towards the entrance of the cave, Legolas spotted the Orcs who had intruded upon his grief. Face set in an icy, emotionless smile, the assassin was ready to unleash his wrath upon these creatures of darkness. When he was finished with these Orcs, he would hunt down every single one of the spiders that took Haldir. Casting an immobilization spell, the assassin strolled leisurely to his first victim.  
  
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Narod fought the invisible hands that held him, but to no avail. The sight of the approaching Elf sent an involuntary chill down his spine. As a child, the Orc had often heard horror stories of the Prince of Ice, a blue dragon in the guise of an Elf, dealing out death to his people in the cover of darkness. In the legends, it was said that any who looked upon this phantom was frozen in fear from the sheer coldness of his presence, doomed to watch helplessly as the predator took their lives. Narod never believed those stories until now. As he stared into the assassin's cold sapphire eyes, he noted that there was no emotion at all, no malice, no mercy... no life. He wondered if the Elf was an animated corpse, able to move yet dead inside.  
  
Narod's analysis was cut short when the assassin stopped an arm's length from him. Steeling his heart, the Orc reminded himself that he was a proud follower of the Lord of Fire. He would face death with dignity; he was honored to have the opportunity to make the ultimate sacrifice for their beloved leader. Glaring defiantly at his would-be executioner, the Orc waited for the blow that would end his life.  
  
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The defiance in his victim's eyes was a surprise. Those who were not scared speechless had always begged for mercy. When Legolas noticed the blisters all over the exposed skin of the Orc, he understood. These were the followers that Aragorn delighted in manipulating with his little games. These soldiers had been pursuing them nonstop since he took Aragorn from Dol Guldur, never taking a break to rest under the harsh daylight. The burns from the sun's heat were proof of their devotion to the horrible, cruel Man. Legolas could not help but feel a sliver of pity for these creatures deep inside his ice-encrusted heart. He knew how it felt to be used, to have one's hopes and affections exploited by an uncaring person.  
  
As his expression softened a bit, the Prince took a small step back and offered an alliance. "Spiders have taken my companion and your Lord. We can find them faster if we work together. They may still be alive." This was something Legolas had never done before. The assassin had always worked alone; but the Orcs were very attuned to Aragorn's scent. As the missing ones were out of range of the Prince's senses, the soldiers' keen nose for manflesh would be a great help at locating them. After all, these Orcs managed to track them from Dol Guldur in such a short time.  
  
To say the pursuit party was taken back by the offer was an understatement. Elves viewed destroying Orcs as their duty since they thought Orcs were tainted remnants of tortured Elves from long ago. An Elf would never show mercy to any creatures of darkness; in fact, Elves often made a sport of hunting Orcs. Never before had they heard of an Elf proposing to join forces with their kind.  
  
Garekk was the first to recover from his shock. He knew they had two choices: to die by the assassin's hands now or to work with him. As long as they stayed alive, they could find an opportunity to surprise the Elf and overpower him. Besides, if what the assassin said was true, they did not have the strength to rescue Aragorn from the spiders alone. As their ultimate goal was to bring their Lord back safely to Dol Guldur, there was but one choice. They must join their hated enemy. "Very well, release us. We will guide you to our Lord."  
  
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Legolas spoke in his unlikely allies' mind and commanded them to stop. His two missing companions were within range of his senses now. He was relieved to hear the sound of Haldir's soft breathing. The spiders would pay for hurting his gentle friend. The hated Man too was alive; and completely unharmed as it would seem, save for the bruises on his spine and shoulders that the Prince delivered in person earlier in the night. Silently, he shared the information with the band of Orcs before demanding a retreat to discuss their strategies.  
  
"We will create a diversion. You go get our Lord and the other Elf out of the lair. We will meet back here," suggested Garekk on behalf of his soldiers. He would much rather be the ones rescuing Aragorn, but they knew their footsteps were too heavy. They could never sneak into the lair unnoticed. It was something that only the Elf could do.  
  
"No, I am much more capable of fighting the spiders than you. I will be the decoy," opposed the Elf resolutely, with quiet authority that allowed no arguments.  
  
During their journey, the Prince decided that since Aragorn would not take care of these Orcs, he would look out for them. It was a ridiculous notion, a cold-blooded Elven assassin caring for these creatures of darkness; but it was something Legolas wanted to do. All his life he had been told who to hate and who to kill. In his attempts to fit in, he had done as Thranduil asked. Save for visiting Haldir in his free time, the Prince had never done anything HE wanted. But the 1000 years' imprisonment changed him; now, he would do things that he felt was right. He would no longer betray his principles or his heart in order to gain the acceptance of his people.  
  
"Only very few spiders will leave their lair to go after one single Elf. Almost all of them will leave to chase twenty Orcs. Our plan is more sound than yours, assassin," reasoned Narod. Their enemy's argument was not logical at all. It was as if the Elf were trying to protect them from the spiders. It was something Lord Aragorn would do, offering to be the sacrifice for the greater good of their army, but definitely not something their arch-nemesis would suggest. The Elf must be up to something.  
  
The Prince was reluctant to agree, but the guard had a point. "Very well. Once you have the spider's attention, flee. Do not engage them thinking to give me more time. I do not need it." Taking one last look at his allies to make sure they understood his wishes, Legolas disappeared into the forest before the Orcs could make another sound.  
  
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Aragorn glanced worriedly at his unconscious lover. The huge cut on the side of the Lòrien Elf's head was still gushing freely. If the bleeding was not stopped soon, the Man feared Haldir would not survive. He really should not care, since he was just using the Guardian of Lòrien. But Aragorn could not erase the memory of how his lover had risked everything to protect him from the spiders. The Elf could have escaped easily; but Haldir would not leave him, even when the spiders outnumbered them fifteen to one.  
  
Silently, the Man cursed the assassin for paralyzing him; if he were able to move, his lover would not be injured. Aragorn still remembered the scene vividly; a spider had crawled across the ceiling and past the silver- haired Elf. It was about to attack the helpless Man from above when the Guardian sensed the danger. Without any regard to his own safety, Haldir threw himself on top of Aragorn to shield him from the creature's attack. As the blow landed on the Elf's head with a sickening thud, the Man could feel his lover grew limp in his arm. Laughing at the couple tauntingly, the spiders said they would have mercy and let them die together as they encased the Man and Elf in the same cocoon.  
  
Aragorn knew the other Elf would come for them. But as he heard the spiders scuttling about in their lair, he knew their time was running out. Even if Haldir did not bleed to death, the arachnids would soon feed on them. The spiders had waited longer than the Man anticipated. He could not help but wonder what other food could the creatures be feasting on to delay eating them. Aragorn hoped they had caught some Elven scouting party. In his current frame of mind, the Man wished death to all Elves, with the exception of his gentle lover and their would-be rescuer. Aragorn did wish for the Prince's death; but he wanted the privilege of killing the golden Elf himself and not before torturing the assassin so much that Legolas wished he had never been born.  
  
Suddenly, a loud Orcish war cry echoed in the cave. This was not what Aragorn expected; nor was it what he wanted. From the sound of the noise, there could be no more than twenty of his men. There were too many spiders for them to fight; they would only be sacrificing their lives uselessly. For the second time in the night, the Man reminded himself that he should not care. He was only using his soldiers; he should be proud they were so willing to die for him. Yet, as Aragorn writhed within the confines of his cocoon in an attempt to get free, he could not stop crying out to his followers to stop and run to safety.  
  
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The Orcs were true to their words. There were only five spiders left in the cave, which Legolas very quickly disposed of with well-aimed arrows. Following the sound of the Man's muffled voice, the Prince had no trouble finding his missing companions. Deftly, the Elf knelt by the side of the cocoon and slit open the silk carefully. The top of the cocoon opened to reveal the heads of both his companions. Haldir lied underneath his human lover, unconscious and pale, head bleeding from a deep gash. The older Elf looked so vulnerable that the Prince vowed silently he would never leave his friend unguarded again, even if it meant being tormented by the sounds of Haldir's and Aragorn's love-making. "Let us go," whispered Legolas as he carefully lifted the sac that contained the couple.  
  
As the mage's hand brushed against the Man's bowed head, Legolas was overwhelmed by the most intense rush of emotions he had ever experienced. Shame, anguish and worry....the need to please his father, the need to save his people, both so strong, yet incompatible..and both utterly out of his reach. It took several moments before the assassin recovered enough to realize the source of his distraction; those feelings came from Aragorn, whom he dismissed as a lying schemer. Glancing at his prisoner, Legolas could see that the Man's eyes were closed, face set in a grimace that reflected his internal struggle.  
  
At that moment, the Prince knew he was wrong about Aragorn. For all his magic, he had only seen the surface of this complicated Human. As much as he hated to admit it, Haldir was right; there was still good in the Man. Though Legolas wanted the silver-haired beauty for his own, he knew how much the older Elf loved Aragorn. People said that if a person loved someone, he would put his beloved's happiness before his own. The Prince's heart was too frozen to truly experience love, but Haldir was his only friend; he would do anything to protect the Lòrien Elf and make him happy. He would do all he could to drag the Hope of Men out of the calculating Lord of Fire. Given his 'unique' background, Legolas had a feeling he might just be the right person to do it. 


	6. Chapter Five

Disclaimer: Don't own anything.  
  
Please, please review.  
  
Sorry for not updating for so long. Been busy doing other stuff.. But here is another chapter, proof that I haven't given up on this story =) Hope you like it. Oh, Ithildin who betas all my other A/L is now beta-ing for this. Thanks =)  
  
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Chapter Five:  
  
Aragorn was surprised to find his men waiting for them at a small camp. He was even more shocked when Garrekk, his second-in-command, called out to question the Elven Prince. "Do you have my Lord, assassin?"  
  
"Yes," answered Legolas as he walked to join the group before laying the cocoon he carried gently onto the ground. Carefully, he slit it open to reveal Aragorn and Haldir.  
  
"What is wrong with lord Aragorn?" demanded the Orc as he noticed the Man had not moved.  
  
"I hit some pressure points on his spine and shoulder. He will be unable to walk or move his right arm for the next two days," replied the Prince casually as he moved to examine Haldir's wound.  
  
The soldiers, enraged at the treatment of their lord, would have attacked the assassin if Aragorn had not stopped them. As much as he hated the Prince, Haldir's health came first. As the Man was wounded and could not treat the Lòrien Elf's injuries, he would have to rely on Legolas to care for his lover. "Stand down, men."  
  
Taking some bandages from his pack, the Prince bound his older friend's wounds. Looking at Aragorn intensely, he spoke, "I am a killer, not a healer. This is all I can do for him. We need to bring him back to Mirkwood as soon as possible."  
  
The Orcs let out a wave of protest before the Man silenced them. "If we don't?"  
  
"He will die," lied the Prince in a serious tone. It was the first time he ever used deception to manipulate another; he did not like lying but knew it was necessary. And he was very convincing for his first try as Aragorn now deliberated his options with a torn expression. Once again, the Prince was correct in his assumption that the Man cared more about his wounded lover than he wanted to admit.  
  
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Having observed the exchange between his men and the assassin, Aragorn knew the Prince was too powerful for the Orcs to fight. If he refused to accompany the Elf, his men would undoubtedly be killed in the battle that ensued and he would be dragged before Thranduil nonetheless. He could not allow his soldiers to sacrifice their lives needlessly. Besides, he wanted to make certain that Haldir was safe. Not that he cared much about the Elf; but the Guardian of Lòrien was his lover, and thus, his 'possession'. It was a matter of pride to always take care of what belonged to him. But Aragorn was Sauron's heir; he could not possibly surrender to his enemy without a fight. It would be a disgrace to the Dark Lord; and, that, he could not allow.  
  
The Man spent his entire life trying to please his sire. He knew the Dark Lord thought of caring for others as a weakness; so ever since he was a child, he tried to close his heart. Though he cried every night in the lonely darkness of his rooms, he persisted. As he grew older, despite the assault of his conscience, which heaped shame and guilt upon him with each atrocious act he committed as the Lord of Fire, he strived to be a Man his father would be proud of.  
  
It was a hard battle, fighting against his conscience and his heart, but Aragorn won in the end. Over the years, he had grown numb as cruelty and mind-games became second nature, a reflex that no longer required thought. He could not abandon his secret hope for his father's love now, when the Dark Lord finally began to believe in his competence. But before Aragorn could refuse to go with the assassin, he noticed the captain of his guards, along with five of his elite soldiers were missing. They would never agree to being left out of this rescue mission. With an urgent sense of dread, the Man asked, "Where is Narod and his team?"  
  
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The mage began to chastise himself the moment Aragorn voiced his question. He should have noticed that five of the original group was missing. Some leader he would make if he could not even notice details like this! "All of you stay here. I will go get them."  
  
The Prince's word surprised his companions. None of them understood why an Elf would risk his life to search for a handful of Orcs. The group continued to stare at the Prince with suspicion even when Legolas added, "I have a score to settle with the spiders. I cannot let them get away with what they did to Haldir."  
  
The assassin's charade did not fool Aragorn. He could detect a minute trace of concern in the Elf's words. This did not make sense at all. It was a law of nature for Elves and Orcs to hate and kill each other; yet this strange one seemed to be an exception to the rule. To say the Man found this genuinely intriguing was an understatement. "Aren't you afraid we will run away with Haldir when you are away?"  
  
"No. You don't seem the type who will leave your own men behind," replied the Prince before turning to disappear into the forest.  
  
The Man was taken back by the Elf's answer. Not that the mage was wrong. Aragorn would never leave his soldiers behind. It had nothing to do with his integrity or his 'concern' for his men. It was simply an act to boast morale and make his warriors believed they were important units of a whole. He knew the assassin felt nothing but contempt for him, yet the Prince trusted him enough to stay. Legolas was quickly becoming a very fascinating enigma that the Man wished to decipher. Aragorn had a feeling it would not be easy, but nothing interested him more than a good challenge.  
  
Besides, Legolas had not displayed any of the typical 'goodness and light' that the other Elves possessed. Unlike his kindred, the Prince did not have the hatred towards all creatures of darkness, nor did he show love for all things in nature. Thus far, the assassin's allegiance seemed only towards Haldir. Perhaps, that meant the Elf-mage could be turned to serve the Dark Lord. Legolas was a superb fighter and would be a valuable asset to their cause. Though the Man hated the Prince for besting him twice in combat, he would try to charm the Mirkwood Elf. He was confident that given enough time, he could steal Legolas' heart as he did Haldir's. He would journey to Mirkwood with the two Elves. After all, if he could sway the Prince into siding with him, escaping from Thranduil's realm would not be a problem.  
  
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Legolas found the Orcs surrounded by spiders in a small clearing not far from the arachnids' lair. He watched from his vantage point as the soldiers valiantly fought the beasts despite being outnumbered. The Prince could not help but take note of their courage in this hopeless battle. Aragorn had trained these Orcs well. When one spider made a deep gash in the leading Orc's thigh, Legolas decided he had been watching long enough. Nimbly jumping off of the branch he perched upon to stand in front of the offending arachnid, he commented, "It's time you pick on someone your own size."  
  
The spiders laughed at the arrogance of the single Elf before them. "Do you think a puny creature like you can stand against our combined strength? I will squash you like an ant!" As it finished his threat, the creature raised his leg to strike the Prince.  
  
But Legolas was no longer in front of the spider. Perplexed, the creature looked around for his prey; but its investigation was stopped short when two knives stabbed deep into its neck, severing its nerve cord. The blow killed the arachnid instantly, before it realized what had happened. As the dead spider collapsed, the Prince somersaulted onto his next target to deliver his touch of death.  
  
As the assassin leapt onto his third victim, the spiders had recovered enough to react. A spider jumped at the Elf as he plunged his knives into the neck of his latest prey. Gracefully, the Prince pulled out his blades and leapt off the dead creature's back to avoid the attack. Fast as lightning, the assassin rolled under his assailant, bringing up his knives to split open the creature's soft belly. Before the spider fell, Legolas was on the move again, rolling out to avoid being crushed by the weight of his now dead assailant. Another creature tried to rush at the Prince, but its only reward was a well-aimed arrow through the mouth. Within two minute, five spiders laid dead on the forest floor.  
  
The arachnids, though not very intelligent, realized that this lone Elf was much more than what he seemed. Most started to flee; but some still remained, led by a large female. They hissed as they circled the group of Orcs and Elf, trying to find an opening to catch the assassin unaware.  
  
So far, Legolas had fought without magic. He was saving it all for a special moment to make an example out of the leader of the group. Deliberately, the Prince stowed his knives away in their sheaves behind his back and taunted with an icy smile, "Come on now, I am waiting."  
  
Narrowing its eyes, the large female spider leapt at the now 'defenseless' Elf, thinking to crush him under her weight. But before she landed, the mage held out his hand, sending gusts of wind to keep her suspended in the air, a prisoner in the storm that originated from Legolas' fingertips. "Breath of the Earth that I let flow, lend me your power and destroy the one who stands before me."  
  
As the mage finished his incantation, the walls of the spider's invisible prison collapsed, the blades of wind slicing through the creature's body. The force of the gale was so great that the spider was cut cleanly into many pieces before blood had time to sprout from the slashes. When the last of the arachnid's remains hit the floor, the Prince turned his attention to the other beasts, watching them with emotionless eyes as he asked, "So who is next?"  
  
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The spiders flew out of sight as fast as their eight legs would carry them. It would be a while before they dared attack any Orc or Elf that ventured into this part of the forest. After blinking his azure eyes to banish the icy, dead expression he always wore in battle, the Prince walked to join Aragorn's soldiers. "Can you walk?"  
  
"Yes," replied Narod, shocked that the Elf had bothered to inquire on his condition. But then, that might be because the assassin wanted to kill him if he could not walk so he would not slow their progress. One could never trust an Elf.  
  
"Good," answered the Prince as he turned to head back to camp, mindful to slow his steps so the wounded soldier and his group could keep up.  
  
The captain of the guards was so busy being perplexed by the strange Elf that he failed to see a protruding root in his way and tripped. He would have gone flying to the floor if Legolas had not moved to catch him. As the Orc looked up in surprise at his 'savior', the Prince steadied him before letting go. Within a few seconds, Legolas had moved back to his original position at the head of the group. The other Orcs who witnessed the event were equally stunned by this act of 'kindness'. It was not right for an Elf to help an Orc. Though curiosity burnt in their minds, the warriors had witnessed the mage's powers and did not wish to vex him. Thus, the group journeyed back to their camp in silence, wondering what was going on in this odd Elven assassin's mind. Independently, they all came to the same conclusion; perhaps not every Elf was 'evil' after all.  
  
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The Man greeted the Elf and his followers with a relieved smile upon their return. But the mage did not need to read Aragorn's mind to know that the Man had convinced himself to show his 'joy' for pragmatic reasons. Legolas was certain that Aragorn believed everything was just an act and that he did not care about his followers at all. Lies and games were so much a part of the Man's life that deceiving himself along with the others had become natural. It would be a challenge to lure the Man out of this model he created to please Sauron. But Legolas had yet to lose a fight in his entire existence. He was not about to start now.  
  
"Glad to see us?" asked the Prince casually as he moved to kneel by his injured friend's side. His action also brought him face to face with Aragorn who glared at him.  
  
During his absence, the Man had asked his soldiers to help him sit up. Haldir's injured head no longer rested on the cold, hard ground; instead, the Elf was moved so that he now used Aragorn's muscular thighs as a warm pillow. To see to the comfort of an unconscious lover was not something a heartless Man would do. Aragorn was definitely not as bad as he believed himself to be.  
  
"What makes you think that?" retorted the Man. He had shown the Prince nothing but antagonism so far. It would be 'unnatural' if he switched to his charming self immediately. He must appear annoyed that the mage had found his 'secret'.  
  
"A hunch," said the Elf with a smile. Smiling was something he practiced for Haldir. For someone without emotions, smiles did not come easy. As the Prince really wanted the Lòrien Elf to know he appreciated his company, Legolas had stood in front of a mirror for hours, training his facial muscles to give a 'natural-looking' smile. He never thought he would be showing this to the Man. But he was doing it for Haldir's happiness, which made it all worthwhile.  
  
Aragorn could not help being a little stunned and thrown off his original scheme as he watched Legolas check the bandaging on Haldir's head. The Golden Elf had the most beautiful smile he had ever seen. The Man could not believe he had failed to notice how positively gorgeous the assassin was before. Silken tresses, spun of glittering gold, framed the Prince's delicately sculpted face. Exquisite azure eyes, gazing at the Lòrien Elf, showed a slight trace of warmth as his full, rosy lips curved to give a shy, but sensuous smile.  
  
Somehow, the Man knew the mage had learnt to smile this way for Haldir; and with that thought came an intense rush of irrational jealousy towards the silver-haired beauty. It was a long while before his mind calmed enough to realize that none of this made sense. He was not attracted to the assassin; he only wanted to turn him into a slave for his father. Legolas' affection for his own lover was just a minor problem that needed to be solved; he had no reason to be jealous at all.  
  
To make this more inexplicable, Aragorn had never been jealous of anyone before. Whatever he wanted, he got either by trickery or by force. But when the Mirkwood Elf gently touched Haldir's forehead, the Man was once again overwhelmed with jealousy. This was when he realized the mage must have been playing with his senses. He did not know what Legolas wished to achieve by tampering with his mind; but whatever it was, Aragorn was determined not to lose sight of his original purpose.  
  
Seeing the strange expression on Aragorn's face, the Prince arched his brow and asked, "What's wrong?"  
  
The Man was tempted to yell at Legolas, "You know full well what is wrong", but he did not. He was the Lord of Fire; playing with other people's emotions was HIS specialty. Giving the Mirkwood Elf a seductive smile of his own, Aragorn replied huskily, "Nothing in particular. Just wondering how your lips would taste like. They look absolutely delicious when you smile."  
  
To say the Man's response startled the unflappable Prince was an understatement. It shocked the Elf so much that he did not realize this was all just part of Aragorn's game. Legolas had been told all his life that he was an aberration of nature. None of their allies, Elves or Men, had ever found a creature like him desirable. Haldir was nice to him, but had only considered him a friend. It was impossible that Aragorn, who had the beautiful Lòrien Elf as lover, would make a suggestive comment to him; yet unless his ears deceived him, the inconceivable had just occurred. Not knowing how to react, Legolas began to blush and turned away.  
  
This was not what Aragorn expected. He thought the mage would be offended. Instead, the Elf acted like a shy virgin receiving his first proposition from a male. This, of course, was not possible. A beauty like Legolas should have ample admirers. The Man would have reached out to force the Prince to face him if he could move. But since he could not, he had to settle for teasing the Elf instead. "What's this? A fearless Elven assassin scared of a cripple?"  
  
The Man's taunt broke the spell his earlier words had on the Elf mage. The Prince now knew Aragorn had deemed him the newest 'opponent' in a mind-game and was just playing with him. Legolas was too angry at the moment to realize that this was the third time in one night the Man had made him feel emotions more intense than anything he had ever felt in his life. Furious, he spun round to face Aragorn, his azure eyes burning with a cold fire that sent chills down the Man's spine and seared his soul at the same time. In a quiet yet heated voice, the Elf whispered, "Whatever game you want to play with me, don't. You will not live to regret it."  
  
With that warning, the assassin strolled away from their camp, scarcely aware that he had allowed the Man to best him this time. While Legolas had yet to penetrate the layers of deceit that imprisoned Aragorn's heart, the Man managed to thaw the armor of ice around his and made him angry. This time, the Prince of Ice had finally met his match.  
  
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"We should leave now, my lord," suggested Garekk after he was certain the assassin was out of earshot.  
  
"I have decided to go with them to Mirkwood. But I do not expect you to follow," announced the Man. He wanted his soldiers to come. But as he was sure that they would not abandon him regardless, he would give them a choice. It would make him appear democratic, though things were guaranteed to go his way in the end.  
  
"We will follow you, my lord," replied the Orc general on behalf of the group. None of them were looking forward to traveling towards Elven lands, but they would not leave their leader to face danger alone. They would remain with Aragorn to protect him.  
  
"Good," smiled Aragorn gratefully. Now that business was taken care of, it was time to gather more information on the assassin. To know one's opponent was the key to success. "How is it that you are traveling with the Elf?"  
  
"We found him at your previous camp, my lord. He suggested we work together to rescue you and his friend from the spiders," summarized Garekk with a frown. He saw the exchange between his leader and the Elf mage. He knew the Prince's warning would not deter his lord. Once Aragorn's mind was set on something, he would not rest until he succeeded. But the Orc also knew how powerful the assassin was. He could not help worrying about his master's safety.  
  
"He is a strange one, isn't he?" commented the Man to no one in particular. He wished his lover were conscious since Haldir would probably be able to provide him with a lot of useful information.  
  
"Yes, my Lord. Not only did he saved us from the spiders, he actually helped me when I tripped," concurred Narod, still amazed at how 'nice' the Elf was to them.  
  
"I see," muttered Aragorn, deep in thought. Though the Elf's behavior did not make much sense, the Man was certain that despite his icy demeanor, the Prince had a weak spot when it came to caring about the Orc soldiers. This was something he should keep in mind, a weakness he could exploit later.  
  
The Man's musing was interrupted when the Lòrien Elf moaned softly in his sleep. Haldir had shifted his head and was now lying on his cut. Looking fondly at the silver-haired beauty, Aragorn used his good arm to position the Elf's head on his leg. Without thought, the Man moved his hand gently to soothe the frown that creased the Elf's brow and whispered, "Don't worry, beautiful. Everything will be all right. I won't let anything happen to you."  
  
With the pressure on his injury relieved, the Guardian of Lòrien sighed blissfully in his slumber, jolting the Man into full realization of his own behavior. This prompted Aragorn to immediately stop his caress as he began to chastise himself. The Lòrien Elf was not even awake to appreciate his show of concern! The Man could not believe he had unconsciously slipped into his 'considerate Aragorn' act for no good reason, in front of his men no less. When Legolas returned, he would turn his attention towards the golden Elf. It would be a welcomed break from pretending to be Haldir's gentle lover; he had become too involved in these performances for his own comfort.  
  
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	7. Chapter Six

Don't own anything.  
  
Please, please review. Sorry for the late update, but I did an original draft where the character changes in Legolas were overly drastic; and both my beta and I agreed it is better to do a rewrite. The following chapter is the result - and I do apologize if the changes are still so dramatic that I seemed to have given my Elf a new 'personality'. All I can say is that the characters surprise themselves sometimes, even in this revised version =D Please, let me know what you think.  
  
Just realized never noticed what time of day the previous two chapters were set at. But this one is definitely set at night.  
  
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Chapter six:  
  
Legolas' mind was still racing from his confrontation with the Man. But he has calmed enough to realize that Aragorn had managed to make him lose his composure yet again tonight. He now understood why his senses recognized the Man as a threat. It was not because Aragorn was his match in skills or strength; it was because the Man had the power to touch him in a way that none had before - Aragorn could make him feel. Before, only Haldir could bring emotions to his frosty heart; but those were merely small sparks, nothing compared to the blaze that the Man had aroused with seemingly no effort.  
  
As an assassin and an aberration of nature, emotions were a burden, a danger to his meaningless, but 'peaceful' existence. Without his armor of ice, Legolas would long have perished from grief. Though the Prince did not fear death, he had vowed he would bring the Hope of Men back for Haldir. He could not afford to lose the tight rein over the remnants of his heart now. His only friend's happiness mattered too much to him. It was an inconvenience that Aragorn of all people was able to induce such overwhelming emotions in him. But now that he was aware of the danger the Man posed, he would learn to better control himself in the future. He was not going to let his 'opponent' catch him off guard again.  
  
Shaking his head, the Prince tried to clear his mind and analyze the whole incident with his usual icy reserve, hoping to find some information he could use in future dealings with the Man. But, for some strange reason, his mind kept wandering back to the moment when Aragorn expressed interest in him. Even though he knew it was all part of a game for the Man, Legolas could not help but wonder how being kissed would feel like. Not by Aragorn, of course, since the Man was his only friend's lover, but by someone else who would not mind touching a creature like himself.  
  
His sudden renewed interest in kissing astonished the stoic assassin. When the Prince was younger, he had sometimes wondered how it would feel to be desired. But he had not been successful at finding someone who was willing to help him satisfy his curiosity. It was partly because of the circumstances of his birth; but mainly, it was because he was unappealing. Legolas was a bit shorter and more willowy than most Elves. Unlike other males who were beautiful yet masculine, his face was too delicate. His eyes were too big and bright, a strange shade of dark sapphire different from normal Elves. Not to mention his hair had too much of a yellow tint; compared to his kin, he was like plain gold amidst a sea of perfect platinum. Legolas had long since resigned to the fact that he would never know the pleasures of the flesh. It was strange how a single remark from Aragorn had sparked his long forgotten hopes and brought them to the forefront of his mind.  
  
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The mage's pondering was cut short when a wave of panic surged through the forest. He felt the inhabitants of the forest fled in fear from the area around their camp. Legolas did not need magic to know that the Orcs were attempting to hunt. As animals could sense the darkness in the soldiers, the Prince knew the hunt was bound to fail. He could guess the Orcs' motivation; the company did not carry anything that Aragorn could eat. Legolas had left their packs at the previous camp and the soldiers only carried rotten food that would undoubtedly make the Man sick.  
  
The Prince was tempted to let Aragorn starve, but he knew Haldir would not be happy if the Lòrien Elf found out that he had mistreated the Man. There was also the fact that the Orcs were setting off his warning senses. With the soldiers trampling around, it was difficult for the mage to distinguish real threats from the panic the Orcs were causing. Given that his only friend and Aragorn were injured and defenseless, it was better to give the warriors a hand so they could stop this ruckus quickly. Legolas wanted all his senses functioning at their best after the disaster with the spiders that almost cost Haldir's life.  
  
As much as he hated to acknowledge it, Legolas knew there was one more reason for his decision - a subconscious need to take care of the Man who held the key. This strange force was what stilled the Elf's hand when he tried to end Aragorn's life. It also prompted him to pack clothes for the naked Human before they left Dol guldur and dress his captive to keep him warm. The Prince suspected the magic locked up inside the Man had triggered this inexplicable phenomenon. But regardless of its cause, Legolas knew he must be extra careful so Aragorn would not learn of this weakness and use it against him.  
  
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Aragorn was certain his soldiers would soon return from their fruitless hunt. He knew Orcs were not natural hunters. And as the company only had their supply of rotten bread, he would have to starve tonight. Legolas was probably too angry to remember that the Man needed food multiple times daily. Besides, the assassin would likely ignore his needs, using this as an opportunity to stress that he had Aragorn completely under his mercy.  
  
The Man knew that because of Haldir, the Mirkwood Elf would not physically harm him again. But there were numerous ways for the assassin to make Aragorn's life difficult and uncomfortable. Letting him starve until he learnt a 'lesson in manners' seemed a distinct possibility. Though he had not eaten since he was taken from Dol Guldur three days ago, Aragorn was determined not to allow a little hunger get in his way of getting underneath the Prince's shield of ice. At this very moment, however, his treacherous body decided to protest as his stomach let out a very loud, unceremonious growl.  
  
"Hungry, are we?" taunted a lilting voice from the depth of the woods. It would seem that Aragorn was right in assuming that the assassin would use his own needs against him. There was no way Aragorn would let him succeed.  
  
Soon, the Prince became visible by the dim light of the fire, followed by the soldiers who went to hunt. Seeing the large stag his Orcs carried, the Man could not help his stomach from letting out another growl of approval. His soldiers had certainly surpassed his expectations. It was strange though that Legolas did not seem annoyed that his plans had been foiled. "Good work, men."  
  
Narod, feeling that his leader should place the credit where it was due, even in this case, pointed out, "The assassin brought us the stag, my Lord."  
  
To say Aragorn was surprised was an understatement. He knew Elves only hunt and eat meat on special occasions, in feasts they held for visitors and festivals. Since Legolas' current company was a human prisoner and a handful of Orcs, the assassin's behavior was far from normal. True, Haldir wanted his friend to treat the Man with respect, but save for one single smile, Legolas had shown absolutely no sign of friendliness towards him. And after Aragorn's 'amorous advance' earlier, the Elf certainly had no reason to start caring for his needs now.  
  
It irked Aragorn intensely that he had yet to gain a firm grasp on his opponent's mentality. Thus far, Legolas was so full of contradictions that the Man could not begin to see the Elf's true self. On the surface, the strange creature was a cold-blooded assassin, betraying so little emotions that he seemed to exist only for his missions. Yet, the Prince had saved his Orcs and brought them fresh meat. Aragorn had never encountered anyone so baffling in all his experienced years of playing mind games. Understanding the necessity of knowing his enemy, the Man decided to chance angering Legolas again. "Why did you do it?"  
  
"Do what?" replied the assassin coldly without looking up from his task of preparing Aragorn's dinner.  
  
"Hunt," clarified the Man as he watched his opponent for any possible reactions. Studying the image before him, Aragorn realized he would have more pleasure out of this scheme than he first reckoned. By the flickering light of the flames, the Prince's lustrous mane resembled molten gold, a mass of shimmering silk inviting to the touch. His delicate, sculpted features were a perfect match to his rosy lips and glittering sapphires eyes framed with long lashes. To complete the package was his slender, supple body, with long shapely legs and tight, round buttocks. This Elf was born to be kissed and worshipped, perfection made flesh. Legolas was indeed a price worthy of the extra effort.  
  
"The disturbance your people made was overloading my senses," answered the Prince nonchalantly as he set some meat from the freshly slaughtered animal over the fire. Trusting the assassin to see to their leader's needs, the Orcs began to make short works of the remainder of the carcass, tearing into the dead animal with their hands and consuming the meat raw. The Elf could not help frowning at their antics in disapproval.  
  
"My people?" frowned the Man. Anyone with eyes could tell he was not an Orc. He knew the Elves thought of him as the 'Hope of Men', it was inconceivable for an Elven Prince to acknowledge Aragorn's ties to the Orcs, even if the said Man identified more with the Dark Lord's creatures than Humans.  
  
"They raised you, right? They are the ones willing to fight and die for you. You can at least have the courtesy of acknowledging them as your own people," chastised the Prince, failing to keep his disappointment out of his voice. Though Legolas knew the Man cared more than he pretended, Aragorn's stubborn refusal to recognize his own feelings was beginning to chafe the Elf's patience. That again was another anomaly; the assassin had infinite patience with everything not concerning the Man.  
  
Aragorn tried not to stare agape at the assassin, but failed. Elves thought Orcs were mindless monsters, not capable of feeling or loyalty. Of all Legolas' strange antics, this one astonished him the most. Lost for words, the usually eloquent Aragorn could only manage, "You are one strange Elf."  
  
The comment earned a somewhat bitter laugh from the Prince. The Man could tell he had hit a nerve with his statement. Could it be that the Elves too considered Legolas as 'strange' as well? There was only one way to find out. "What's so funny?"  
  
"Apparently, there is something you and the Elves can agree on," answered the assassin quietly before turning his focus completely onto watching the meat grilling over the fire.  
  
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When Aragorn's dinner was ready, the Prince took the food and walked to the Man and Lòrien Elf. Laying the plate on the floor, Legolas first checked Haldir's bandages before giving the unconscious Guardian a sip of water. After seeing to his friend's needs, the Mirkwood Elf proceeded to help Aragorn eat. This was not a task Legolas particularly looked forward to, seeing how easily the Man could affect him. But the Prince needed to 'befriend' Aragorn if his words or actions were to have any effect in reaching the Hope of Men that was buried deep inside the Lord of Fire. Without sparing the Man a glance, Legolas lifted one of the skewers to Aragorn's mouth.  
  
Chewing on his food thoughtfully, the Man considered his opponent's last statement. He was certain now that the assassin was an outcast, feared by his own people. This was indeed very conducive to his plans. An innocent who had never been courted was bound to be affected by sweet words and tender gestures, even if he was Legolas, cold-blooded assassin extraordinaire. It was time to put aside their previous quarrels and start anew. It was time to begin charming the Prince in earnest. "I meant what I said in a good way."  
  
When the Mirkwood Elf frowned at him, the Man added, "Any other Elf would want me to join them and turn my back on my soldiers."  
  
"If you are willing to do that, you are not the Hope of Men they want. A true leader will never abandon the people who believes in him and trusts him with their lives," replied Legolas with a smile. He was wary of Aragorn's intentions - his captive was being too nice to him. But this was an opportunity the Elf could not pass; this discussion could make Aragorn see he was not the mirror image of the Dark Lord he mistook for his sire.  
  
"Do you think I am the one they are looking for?" asked Aragorn, wanting to know what his opponent truly thought of him. It would make planning his next moves much easier.  
  
"Perhaps. You have potential," answered the Elf truthfully as he gazed into the Man's eyes.  
  
"How so?" pressed the Man, interested. He had always thought Legolas was distrustful of him. He wondered if the assassin was more naïve than he originally anticipated.  
  
"You seem to care about your soldiers, though you try to hide it," baited the Prince, knowing his statement would provoke some sort of reaction.  
  
"I do care about my men," replied Aragorn, saying what he knew Legolas wanted to hear. For his icy demeanor, the Prince was as gullible as Haldir. The Man was certain he would have his prey in bed before they reached Mirkwood.  
  
"Come on, Aragorn. Give me some credit. That act is not going to fool me," sighed the Mirkwood Elf, shaking his head at the Man. It would seem that Aragorn was still trying to gain his affections. Legolas wondered when the Man would learn that he would not betray his only friend over a potentially good time in bed.  
  
"I don't understand," frowned the Man since the Elf's statement had thrown him off-balance. It seemed that Legolas knew he was lying; but if that were the case, why would the Elf think he cared about the Orcs? Something was not right.  
  
"You said that because you want me to like you. You did not mean it at all. At least, not when you spoke those words just now," explained the Prince with a frown as if Aragorn was a dense child.  
  
"Are you suggesting I am a liar?" demanded the Man, annoyed that his ploy had been discovered. While Legolas' condescending tone was an insult to his pride, what irritated Aragorn the most was that he could not figure out why the Elf was not angry with him for lying in an attempt to gain his favors. The last time he made a suggestive remark, Legolas stormed off. It would seem the Prince had returned prepared this time; things were not going as he planned  
  
"I know you are a liar, Aragorn. There is no need to pretend with me," said the Prince calmly with a smile as he offered the incensed Man another spit of meat.  
  
"If you know I am a heartless schemer, why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden?" exclaimed Aragorn in frustration. The Elf was toying with him again, deliberately baiting him to throw him off balance. Losing control over his emotions was unwise, but at that moment, Aragorn was too annoyed to care. He just knew he needed to wipe the infuriating smile off Legolas' face.  
  
As if he could sense the Man's thoughts, the Elf stopped smiling, opting to hold Aragorn's eyes with a penetrating gaze instead. "I do it because there is someone worthwhile underneath all those layers of deceit and lies," answered Legolas, stating the truth plainly which he himself found hard to believe at times. But the Elf mage felt the conflict within the Man when he rescued Aragorn from the spiders - his magic would not lie. The Lord of Fire was not as wholly evil as he pretended to be.  
  
"You think you are all-powerful, but you are as naïve as Haldir," mocked the Man with a bitter laugh. Once again, his words were counter-productive to his plan to turn Legolas into his sire's servant, but they came out before the Man could stop them. His pride would not allow the Elf to have the last word. Besides, irritation was clouding his judgment; his game of seducing the Prince was thrown to the back of his mind the moment his opponent exposed his scheme in the most exasperating manner.  
  
"Maybe. But then, perhaps there is a reason for so many people to have such faith in you," replied the Prince as he cast a glance at his injured friend and in the direction where the Orc soldier sat.  
  
For once in his life, the Man was at a complete lost for words in a game he started. He could not do what he wanted; spitting the truth in the Elf's face, yelling that his Orcs and Haldir were nothing more than pawns was not an option, especially not in his soldiers' presence. As much as he abhorred it, he would have to admit defeat this round. All Aragorn could do was take another bite of the food his captor offered sullenly, hoping the Prince would not gloat over him for his inability to make a worthy retort.  
  
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As soon as Legolas won his first 'battle of words' against the Lord of Fire, his senses began to disobey him. His eyes in particular seemed to have developed a particular fascination with the Man's mouth. True that he had never seen a person ate and pouted at the same time, and Aragorn did it in an extremely attractive manner, he had no reason to pay this sort of attention to his best friend's lover. He should be alert to his surroundings, on a lookout for any signs of danger. As an assassin, he only knew how to kill and destroy; protecting twenty odd people was a task he had no experience with. He could not afford the distraction, even if the Man and Haldir were not together.  
  
Soon, however, the Prince was distracted from his self-admonishment. A tiny morsel of meat had adhered itself to the corner of Aragorn's mouth. Despite the fact that his captive was a MAN, a Race known to be filthy, the speck affronted the Elf's sense of aesthetic cleanliness. Before he could stop himself, Legolas reached out; and with a gentle brush of his slender fingers removed the offending morsel from the Man's face.  
  
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Fire shot through Aragorn's veins as the Prince's hand touched his skin. Never before had a single touch aroused such passion in him. Granted the Elf was exquisite, he was still an enemy until he was turned into a pawn. Besides, the Man was an expert in sexual innuendos and the pleasures of the flesh. A simple, chaste contact should not have the power to send conflagrations of lust through his entire body.  
  
Before the Man realized it, instinct had guided his lips to capture Legolas' retreating fingers. The Elf's eyes widened in surprise as Aragorn suckled the slim digits seductively, drawing them deeper into the hot cavern of his mouth. The Man's steel-gray eyes bore into the Prince's sapphire orbs with an intense, lustful gaze that could set the coldest of hearts aflame.  
  
Captivated, the Elf found himself immobilized by Aragorn's spell. It was becoming increasingly difficult to breathe with each stroke of the Man's tongue. Parting his lips to gasp for air, Legolas knew he was completely helpless against Aragorn's gentle assault. Even as his mind protested, the Prince's body was drawn closer to the Man's, unable to resist the promise of pleasure that had eluded him his entire life.  
  
As much as Aragorn wanted to continue his current activities, the subtle invitation from Legolas' parted lips was too tempting to resist. Relinquishing his claim over the Elf's fingers, the Man leaned forward to taste the Prince's delectable lips. Like other Elves, Legolas tasted like cinnamon and honey, yet there was something different, a spice more exotic and addicting that set the Prince apart. Using his good arm to cradle the back of the Mirkwood Elf's head, Aragorn deepened the kiss, marking his territory in the golden beauty's mouth with aggressive thrusts of his tongue. The Prince moaned against the onslaught, but made no attempts to stop him. Legolas' acquiescence to his control sent electricity sizzling through Aragorn's body, arousing him more than he imagined possible. The Man knew he had to claim the Golden Elf now lest he exploded with need.  
  
The magic of the moment, however, was broken when Haldir moaned softly in his slumber. Immediately, the Prince's mind regained control of his rebellious body, triumphing over the Lord of Fire's spell. Easily, the assassin freed himself from the Man's weak grip, jumping away as if he had been burnt. Without a backward glance, Legolas fled, mind overran with guilt and shame.  
  
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No words could begin to describe how confused and mortified the Elf was over his alarming behavior. He had vowed to help Haldir, to make his only friend happy; but, tonight, he had almost betrayed the Lòrien Elf. The Prince could not believe he had allowed his 'subconscious need' to hold sway over him, making him susceptible to the Man's lecherous charms. He would have allowed Aragorn to have his way tonight, if not for the interruption. This was completely unacceptable! It was one thing to have an urge to treat the Man nicely; it was totally different matter to surrender his body to his only friend's lover. Though Legolas loathed forgoing his promise to bring the Hope of Men back for Haldir, he would stay as far away from Aragorn as possible for the remainder of the journey. He knew not what would happen if he gave the Man another chance to tempt him.  
  
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Aragorn's first thought when the Prince left was to seek horrible vengeance on the person who interrupted their kiss. Yet, when he glanced at his lover, thinking to tell the Orcs to move the slumber Elf away from him, his anger melted. The cut on Haldir's head had started bleeding again, staining the once pristine bandages dark red. No wonder the Guardian of Lòrien had moaned in pain. Refusing to acknowledge the wave of tenderness he felt for the silver-haired beauty, he convinced himself that he was merely looking out for the interest of an 'asset' and gruffly ordered his soldiers to bring him some bandages. With his good hand, the Man pressed the wad of clean cloth against his lover's forehead to slow the bleeding. Cursing his inability to care for what 'belonged' to him, Aragorn told the Orcs to search for the missing assassin. Seducing Legolas could wait.  
  
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	8. Chapter Seven

Disclaimer: Don't own anything.  
  
Please, please review. They are my fuel.  
  
Warning: Heavy sexual content. Solid R rating. (my beta actually said its borderline NC-17 teaser, but hey, nothing happens) And yes, people are kind of out of character, because the evil authoress' magic is in the air, hehe.  
  
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Chapter 7  
  
As the group marched towards enemies' territory, Aragorn contemplated ruefully how things had not gone according to plan. After the kiss three nights ago, the Mirkwood Elf had deliberately avoided all contact with him. Not only had the assassin asked the Orcs to carry him, the Prince would rely messages through the soldiers instead of speaking to him directly. The Man had tried everything in his power to provoke some sort of reaction, but to no avail. The Prince simply ignored his gloating and his attempts to start an amicable conversation, leading the group towards Thranduil's realm in a tense silence.  
  
As the moon reached its zenith, the Elf-mage signaled to the group to stop and take a rest. For the past three days, the company had traveled nonstop from the early hours of dawn until midnight. It was clear that Legolas wished to reach his father's palace as soon as possible. Whether it was due to increasing concern for the wounded Lòrien Elf or his newly developed aversion to being with Aragorn, the Man did not know.  
  
The company was now only four days away from Elven Lands. The Man knew he would not have another chance at winning the Golden Elf's heart once they reached their destination. He was equally certain that without Legolas' protection, the Orcs would be slaughtered as soon as they entered Thranduil's realm. Thus, he must act soon to secure the Prince's aid. Failure was not an option.  
  
Over the past few days, Aragorn had noticed that the assassin had a strange obsession with cleanliness - Legolas would leave the group every night to bathe. This was a weakness the Man sought to exploit; it would be easier to seduce a naked Elf than a clothed one. When the Man regained control of his limbs earlier this morning, he had deliberately kept it a secret. Tonight, he would pay Legolas a surprise visit at the stream. His chance to spend some quality time with his quarry had finally arrived.  
  
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Three nights after the Harvest Festival - it was on this night, one thousand six hundred years ago that the Queen of Mirkwood was killed, the same night that Legolas' life began. Gazing out into the darkness of the woods, a wave of melancholy took hold of the Prince of Ice, tormenting him with thoughts of what could have been if the circumstances of his birth were different. This was a sensation he was familiar with as a child, this heart-wrenching sorrow that was his only companion as he spent every birthday of his life alone.  
  
Over the years, the Prince had grown so accustomed to this phenomenon that he no longer paid it any heed. But tonight was different, his sadness more poignant, his loneliness more acute. He knew Aragorn was to blame. Not only had his captive aroused his dormant emotions, the Man had given him a glimpse of a world that could never be his. Though everything was a game to Aragorn, he showed Legolas the wonders of being held and wanted. As much as the Prince hated to admit it, the precious moments when their lips touched was the only time he had ever felt connected to someone; and in that stolen embrace was a place he secretly wished to belong.  
  
But, none of it mattered. The Mirkwood Elf would never betray his only friend, nor did the Man truly have tender feelings for him. In fact, Legolas was certain he had not fallen in love with his captive over one kiss. What the Prince yearned was the bliss of being part of something, of not being alone anymore. All in all, it was best to purge from his mind the memories of the kiss. But as an Elf, he did not have that luxury - the sensation of Aragorn's lips against his was something he would carry with him always. All he could do was pour his melancholy and hopeless romantic delusions into song.  
  
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Thoughts were abandoned as Aragorn followed the lilting voice through the darkness of the forest, a Man captivated by a siren's song. The beautifully haunting melody was a requiem for lost dreams, a testament of a loneliness that mirrored his own. For all his discipline, Aragorn was still only human, with needs and weaknesses. Buried in the deepest recesses of his mind was the wish to find someone who would understand the sacrifices he made for his father, someone who would love him for the person he was. Out of their own volition, his limbs marched, bringing him towards the mysterious nymph whose music had touched him as none had before.  
  
Aragorn was close now, his heart raced in anticipation as the music grew louder. Then it happened, a soft golden glow drew his eyes to the one he sought. Amidst the tranquility of the forest, an ethereal creature with golden hair and ivory skin stood in waist-high water. Though the mysterious siren's face was hidden, his voice alone was enough to keep the Man enthralled. Drawn by the overwhelming emotions in the song, Aragorn closed the distance between them to wrap his arms loosely around the enchantress who had stolen the remains of his heart.  
  
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Legolas never noticed the intruder until strong arms encircled him, setting his body aflame. The Elf had set magic barriers around the pond, making it impossible for any creature to cross without his knowledge. Yet, this stranger had penetrated his defenses and touched him without setting off his warning senses. Given the way his rebellious body was refusing his command to move, the Prince could guess who this enigmatic intruder was. When the visitor moved to nuzzle his neck, brushing his lips tenderly against his silken skin, sending a familiar conflagration through his veins, he knew he had once again fallen unwittingly under the Lord of Fire's spell.  
  
"Aragorn." It was supposed to be an admonishment, to tell the Man to stop giving him this unwanted pleasure, but the name came out as a sigh instead. He did not want this; no, he could not want this. There were so many reasons why he should move away now; yet, neither his body nor what was left of his heart would listen. They wanted to be free to enjoy the magic of the moment, this precious sensation of being with someone who desired him despite his shortcomings. Instead of doing as reason dictated, Legolas allowed himself to be drawn closer to the comforting warmth of his most dangerous enemy.  
  
The Man opened his eyes in surprise at the assassin's voice breathing his name. He should be grateful that the fates were kind to him; that the mysterious nymph he desired was the one he set out to seduce. Yet, no such thoughts entered his mind; for now, he was content with losing himself in this blissful completeness of being with the one who comforted his lonely, withered soul. Everything else could wait.  
  
"Legolas," whispered Aragorn into the Elf's ear before moving to nibble on the sensitive point. When the Prince sighed in approval, the Man's hands began their slow exploration of Legolas' body, roaming lovingly across the silken skin. Tonight was about giving pleasure; he would do everything he could to woo the one who held the power to keep the empty darkness at bay.  
  
The Prince moaned softly and closed his eyes, surrendering to the exquisite pleasure of being worshipped by Aragorn's gentle hands. Thoughts of protesting against the Man's administrations had long fled his mind, coherence an impossible feat the moment his lover began the tender assault on his sensitive ears. Not even in his wildest dreams had he imagined this, being consumed in the scorching blaze that was Aragorn's touch, senses overwhelmed by the thunder of his own heartbeat and the fire within his veins.  
  
It was surreal, this pleasure that was too much yet not enough. Soon, the Man's hands drifted downwards below the water surface, inching their way towards the source of his pleasure. Instinctively, the Elf leaned back to press himself flushed against Aragorn. Then it happened; a question that jolted Legolas from this perfect dream back to harsh reality.  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
The words came out of Aragorn's mouth before he could stop them. He was aroused to the point of pain, but he needed to ask. He had to give Legolas the choice; he did not want history to repeat itself, to give the Prince a reason to run from him after a shared moment of intimacy. The Golden Elf had to decide this was what he truly wanted, mind, body and soul. Only then would the Man have the one thing he craved more than claiming the beautiful assassin as his - Legolas' heart.  
  
"We can't," replied the Prince in a pained whisper as he gathered all his strength to disentangle himself from the Man's warm embrace. To his surprise, Aragorn made no attempt to stop him. There they stood, motionless and silent amidst the tranquility of the forest, each mourning what could have been.  
  
After a few agonizing moments, Legolas' reeling senses calmed enough for his mind to regain control. A wave of shame threatened to overwhelm him, but the Prince managed to push it to the back of his mind. What mattered most was to understand what had just happened. The Lord of Fire could have taken whatever he wanted; yet he had stopped to ask for consent. There was also the fact that Legolas' heart literally ached from the loss of the Man's warmth. It made the Prince wondered if they both cared for each other more than they realized.  
  
"Why?" asked the Elf softly without turning; he was not ready to face Aragorn yet.  
  
"I had to. I want more than one night of passion, Legolas; I want you," replied Aragorn quietly, eyes fixed on the Prince's lithe form. The Man knew how capable the beautiful assassin was; yet the lone Elf standing in front of him looked so vulnerable, arousing a protective instinct that he never knew he possessed. It took ever ounce of his strength to refrain from closing the distance and gathering Legolas in his arms again.  
  
Legolas could feel the ice around his heart melting at the sweet words. He was starting to believe that Aragorn truly cared for him when he remembered how the Man had been trying to seduce him in the past few days. This was just another elaborate game the Lord of Fire planned to capture his heart! Rage and pain as he had never felt before overtook him; the surrounding forest shook from the sheer force of his emotions. Spinning around to glare at the Man who had tricked him into dreaming again, the Elf spat, "Of course, you do. The Dark Lord will be so pleased with you when you bring him the mythical Prince of Ice in chains."  
  
The Elf's venomous words cut Aragorn to the core. The accusation reminded him of what he should have done, of his duty to his father and followers. But instead of performing his duties, he had allowed Legolas' song to banish his schemes to the back of his mind. For the first time in his life, he had let his heart pursue its desires and approached someone with no ulterior motives. Yet, his reward was this agonizing shame and hurt that threatened to tear him apart.  
  
The Man could not decide whether he wanted to cry or kill the one whose music had lured him into caring with false promises. Instead, he steeled himself, determined not to allow his opponent see how deeply those words had wounded him. "Well, you found me out," said Aragorn with a smirk and a shake of the head. "I guess there is no tricking you into thinking I am considerate and caring, is there?"  
  
Legolas wanted to tear the Man's head off for playing such a cruel joke on him, but knew he could not. Aragorn was his only friend's lover, not to mention the Hope of Men who held the fate of Middle Earth in his hands. Unable to find a proper response, the Prince stalked towards the shore without giving the Man a backwards glance. As he quickly dressed and left the pond, he swore he would not allow the Lord of Fire to catch him off guard again. There was no way he would make the same mistake thrice.  
  
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A still upset Aragorn was returning to camp when he heard his soldiers' battle cries. Heedless to the fact that he had no weapons, the Man rushed towards his destination, hoping his presence would give heart to his Orcs and lead the group to victory. What he found at the camp, however, was hardly what he expected. His soldiers lied unconscious on the ground, while a bearded old man in a grey cloak crouched over his comatose lover. Stealthily, Aragorn retrieved one of his follower's swords and crept behind their uninvited guest.  
  
But before the Man could strike, the stranger spoke, "There is no need for hostility, my friend. I just wish to examine Haldir's wounds."  
  
"Who are you?" asked the Man without lowering his sword.  
  
"I am Gandalf the Grey," replied the wizard, turning and straightening to face Aragorn. "Might I ask why a Man and a group of Orcs are traveling to King Thranduil's realm with the Guardian of Lòrien in tow?"  
  
Gandalf had been spent the better part of the year away from the Eldar and had yet to learn of Haldir's capture or Legolas' release from the dungeons of Mirkwood. He was quite certain the dark-haired stranger was the lost Hope of Men; but he could not understand the purpose of Aragorn's journey to Mirkwood. He knew the Man always thought of himself as Sauron's heir.  
  
"Haldir was injured in a spiders' attack. He will die without treatment from the Lady of Light," replied Aragorn, careful to leave out the assassin's involvement. If the wizard had hostile intentions, Legolas would be their only hope of escaping alive. The element of surprise would give the Prince the advantage if a battle were to occur.  
  
"I think you are mistaken, my friend. Haldir is in no mortal danger. In fact, he should be waking soon," replied Gandalf, wondering who had misled the Man into believing the Lòrien Elf was in critical condition.  
  
For a long moment, Aragorn was too stunned to speak. Legolas had lied to him! He could not allow such a thing to go unpunished. The need to seek the Mirkwood Elf for a confrontation paramount, the Man spoke, "There is something I must do. If anything bad happens to my soldiers or Haldir, I will personally hunt you down and kill you." With that threat, Aragorn marched into the woods; he would make the assassin pay for tricking him even if it was the last thing he did.  
  
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Aragorn had never been as in tune with the forest as he was now. It was strange, to be this upset, yet able to sense the tiny shifts of the wind and the parting of the trees that showed him the way to his quarry. He was too incensed to analyze this newfound ability; at this moment, only one thing mattered - the opportunity to beat the unsuspecting Mirkwood Elf in the clearing into a pulp.  
  
Unluckily for the Man, his aggression triggered Legolas' warning senses the moment he made his move. The Prince nimbly spun out of the way of Aragorn's lunge and used his feet to trip his assailant. But, the furious Man would not go down alone; he grabbed his opponent's tunic at the last minute, using his weight to pull the assassin onto the ground on top of him. Aragorn tried to reverse their position, but Legolas anticipated the move. Quicker than the blink of an eye, the Prince pinned Aragorn's arms to the ground and straddled him, effectively immobilizing the larger Man under his slender frame.  
  
This sudden assault incensed the assassin who was still hurting from Aragorn's cruel trick earlier. "If it's up to me, I will kill you right now."  
  
"Same here!" hissed the Man in a dangerous whisper as he struggled against the Elf's hold. Angry as he was, he could not help but notice how right it felt to have Legolas' body pressed flushed against his. He wondered if the Elf mage was using some sort of spell to manipulate his mind. But the fury in Legolas' sapphire orbs suggested otherwise; much like himself, the Prince was not in the proper emotional state to play mind-games.  
  
Legolas frowned at the Man's words. Aragorn wanted to seduce him earlier in the night. This sudden hostility was unexpected. "That's new. Why the change of plans?" asked the Elf, suspicious that this was yet another trap concocted by the devious Lord of Fire.  
  
"You tricked me!" blurted out Aragorn before he could censor his answer to sound less angry or hurt.  
  
A sudden rush of emotions from the Man assaulted Legolas' senses. Distracted, he loosened his grip, giving his opponent the chance to flip him over and pinned him onto the ground. Normally, it would have been easy for the assassin to carry out a counterstrike; but tonight, the intensity of his opponent's feelings paralyzed him. There was naught he could do when the first of Aragorn's punches landed.  
  
This was what Aragorn set out to do, to hurt the assassin for tricking him; yet it felt wrong, hitting this exquisite creature who suddenly looked so forlorn and vulnerable underneath him. Losing the fight against his conscience for the first time in many years, the Man halted his assault and dragged his battered victim onto his feet, shoving the slender Elf against a tree. "I am leading my men back to Dol Guldur. Try to stop me, and I'll kill you."  
  
"Wait," whispered the Prince as soon as he regained his ability to speak.  
  
The Man's blows stung, but Legolas was certain given his healing abilities, the evidence of this confrontation would be gone by morning. His senses, however, were still staggering from Aragorn's intense outburst of emotions. He had always known Aragorn was not as heartless as he seemed; but tonight, the Prince discovered that underneath the Lord of Fire was a Man's whose loneliness and pain mirrored his own. It took a thousand years for Legolas to learn that a person could never find happiness by burying himself. No one's approval was worth the price of consciously throwing his heart away, of deliberately becoming an empty husk of a person who could barely feel. He could not allow anyone, even his worse enemy, to suffer the same fate.  
  
"Yes, I lied about Haldir. But you were the one who chose to come with me. If you were really the heartless heir of Sauron you pretended to be, you would have returned to Dol Guldur, regardless of what I said about him," continued Legolas softly in a matter-of-fact tone. He needed to be calm to make Aragorn see the inconsistencies in the lies fabricated to force himself to be the uncaring Lord of Fire.  
  
"I came along because Haldir is mine and I always take care of my own. It builds loyalty and keeps morale high," replied Aragorn automatically, a standard answer he had given himself and his sire countless times before to justify his acts of 'kindness'.  
  
"Risking his own well-being to take care of others doesn't sound like something a true son of the Dark Lord will do," commented the Prince as he held the Man captive with a penetrating gaze.  
  
Legolas' intense azure orbs burnt into Aragorn's soul, stripping him of the barriers he spent years building around his heart. Feeling naked and vulnerable under the probing gaze, the Man stuttered, sounding much more uncertain for his liking, "You know nothing about me!"  
  
"I know more than you think, Aragorn," smiled the Prince sadly as he began to slowly approach the Man.  
  
With an even voice, Legolas continued, "I know you cried yourself to sleep every night when you were young, all alone in your room, hoping your father would come to comfort you. I know that a part of you dies each time you kill; that you lose a bit of yourself each time you play with someone's feelings; until one day, you woke up and convinced yourself to stop caring because it hurt too much. You buried your heart to protect it; but after all these years, you don't even know who you truly are anymore underneath all the layers of deceit and lies. Nothing is worth this grief and pain, Aragorn. The Dark Lord wants a cold-blooded killing machine, not a son; and no matter what you do, he will never care about you."  
  
"You lie. Just like you lied about Haldir. You're trying to trick me into going to Mirkwood," accused the Man, pain emanating from his stormy gray eyes. Legolas had so aptly described his battle with his conscience that it opened up old wounds Aragorn would rather forget. It was almost as if the Elf had been with him during those bitter watches of the night, suffering with him as silent tears flowed and his heart bled. For the second time in a night, the Prince managed to rouse his dormant heart and show him that there was still hope; that he did not have to be alone anymore. Despite his resolve, Aragorn could not stop the tiny sliver of doubt that crept into his mind, wondering if all the sacrifices he made for his father were in vain, thinking of what could have been if he had followed his heart instead.  
  
The Prince knew there was no more he could do. If he were to push any harder, he would be guilty of the same crime as the Dark Lord, of trying to mold Aragorn into the person he wanted him to be. As much as he wished to bring back the Hope of Men for his only friend, it was up to Aragorn to choose his own path. With a wearily sigh, Legolas lied a gentle hand on the Man's shoulder. "Believe what you will. I've said my piece; what to do from now on is your decision." Before the Man could say another word, the Golden Elf was gone.  
  
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	9. Chapter Eight

Disclaimer: Don't own anything  
  
Author's note: Sorry for not updating for so long. I've been really busy with other things.  
  
Please, please review. I do take time to read them and take them into account =)  
  
Response to some criticism: It's not my intention to make Aragorn an old pervert... after all, Legolas and Haldir both are OLDER than him. Anyway, it makes sense for his character to use every 'weapon' he possessed to achieve his goals; in other words, it is reasonable that he should be trying to be seducing the Elves physically. But, I do apologize if people find the high degree of sexual content in this fiction offensive. This story is a solid R rating, precisely for this reason. I believe the 'adult content' is one of major warnings at the beginning. That said, Aragorn's character is changing; so there won't be anything half as steamy as what is in the last chapter. =P  
  
Enough said, on with the story.  
  
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Chapter Eight  
  
In the darkness of the forest, a lone Man wandered, the sound of his footsteps breaking the eerie stillness of the night. The tranquility of the woods offered Aragorn no reprieve; he was at war with himself, drowning in a swirl of long-buried emotions. For too long he had denied his own heart; but now the floodgate was opened, there was no way of holding back the tide. This was all the fault of a single Elf, a stoic assassin who had in the span of one night effortlessly turned his entire life upside down.  
  
The Man did not understand how an enemy's words could have such a power over him. It should be easy to dismiss them as a trick to manipulate his mind; yet, the more he dwelt on them, the more they resonated with the remains of his heart. His doubts started as an insignificant speck in his mind; but as he reminisced on his past, the blotch grew; it was now a looming shadow that threatened to engulf the principles that he had lived by his entire life.  
  
Aragorn feared that he would go mad if one of the warring factions of his psyche did not relinquish its hold soon. He wanted to return home where the comfort of familiarity would banish his doubts. He needed his people's assurance that his life had not been wasted in pursuit of some hopeless dream. He would return to Dol Guldur, or die trying.  
  
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It was near dawn when Aragorn arrived at the camp. The first thing he noticed upon his return was that his unconscious lover and the Wizard were missing. His soldiers sat huddled by the fire as they glanced in the direction of their 'destination'. It was clear that the Orcs were ill at ease, but they stayed, awaiting his arrival. "Where is Haldir?"  
  
"He woke earlier in the night. The Wizard told him of a nearby Elven scouting party; they went to join them. Their group will arrive soon, my Lord," replied Garekk quietly. It took every ounce of the Orc's self- control to refrain from suggesting a retreat. They had followed Aragorn for many years; and never once had their Lord led them astray. He would have faith in his leader's decision, even if the price could be his life.  
  
"Gather your things. We are returning to Dol Guldur," commanded the Man urgently, knowing time was of the essence if they were to make a successful escape.  
  
Minutes later, the Man and his Orcs were on the move. But they all knew that haste alone would not save them; the deciding factor was whether the assassin would let them go. If Legolas were against them, Aragorn would be brought to Mirkwood as a prisoner and the soldiers would not live to see another dawn.  
  
As the group hurried away from the Elven scouts, the Man felt a wave of shame assaulting his senses, something he had not felt in years. He regretted his overconfidence, wishing he had not risked his followers' lives so recklessly. He knew all along that the assassin had the emotional capability of a block of ice.  
  
The Man's musing, however, was cut short when a lilting voice commented, "Going somewhere?"  
  
The assassin was standing on a low-hanging branch of an ancient tree, a dark silhouette in golden light of the rising sun. Squinting into the light to face the Elf, the Man answered, "Yes, home."  
  
With the grace of a panther, Legolas jumped down from his perch so he could look Aragorn squarely in the eye. As the two locked gaze, the tension in the air was palpable; even the forest, which had been buzzing with life fell into an uneasy silence. It was the Man who broke the hush; hands on the hilt of his sword, he challenged, "Get out of my way, Elf, or suffer the consequences."  
  
Aragorn was ready to fight if need be, but he was unprepared for the fleeting look of sadness on Legolas' face. For a split second, the Man could imagine that his harsh words had hurt the imperturbable Prince of Ice; that the Elf had actually hoped he would decide to stay. This ghost of an expression stirred the conflict within Aragorn anew, battering at his resolve to return to his former life. But the Man knew this was not the time to be weak; his followers' lives hung in the balance. "My place is with my people," he said firmly, hoping he sounded more convinced than he felt.  
  
The Elf responded by drawing one of his knives. The hostile gesture broke Aragorn's heart. Until this moment, he did not realize how much he wanted to trust Legolas, how much he wanted to believe that the Elf would accept him for who he was. But it seemed that his hope had been misplaced; the assassin had lied to him... again. As he readied himself for the Prince's attack, his opponent surprised him by twirling the blade around to offer him the hilt.  
  
When the Man stared at the knife mutely, stupefied by the sudden turn of events, the Elf explained, "The paths of Mirkwood is wrought with danger. I doubt you can make it back to Dol Guldur alive without the protection of my magic."  
  
Aragorn could not believe his ears. The Elf was helping them escape! "Why?"  
  
"It is not much of a choice if your options are coming with me or certain death," replied Legolas in a matter of fact tone. When the Man continued to stare at him agape, he sighed, "You really should be going now, unless you have changed your mind and want to go to Mirkwood."  
  
"Right," the Man whispered as he took the proffered weapon.  
  
There was nothing more to be said, but Aragorn found himself reluctant to leave. He knew he was making the right decision. Even if he were not Sauron's heir, even if he were not a heartless bastard, he could not abandon his Orcs. Yet, the thought of never seeing Haldir and Legolas again was strangely unbearable. The Lòrien Elf loved him enough to die for him; and the Prince awoke his dormant heart. He could not leave them this way, without proper goodbyes.  
  
Without thought, the Man took off his signet ring and offered it to Legolas. "I've had this since I was a babe. I don't know where my path will lead, but I'll come back for it."  
  
Legolas did not realize how much he had hoped Aragorn would promise to return until now. True that he wanted to bring back the Hope of Men for Haldir's sake, but the depth of his feelings exceeded the sense of accomplishment of a mission well done. Stranger still was the fact that he WANTED to smile at the Man for offering him the ring, for giving him a reason to hope. Before he could analyze his strange reaction further, he heard the approach of the scouting party. Turning to face the Elves led by his father, Legolas whispered, "You need to leave now."  
  
"But..." The Man could tell from the reaction of the Orcs that the enemies were close. His soldiers had a more developed survival instinct than he did. He had tarried here too long for an effective escape.  
  
"Let me worry about my father; all you need to think about is which path to take," said Legolas as he reached out to clasp the Man's shoulder. After giving Aragorn a small nod, the Elf pushed him away and added, "Now go."  
  
The Man nodded and began to lead his Orcs away. Turning to glance once more at Legolas, he mouthed a silent 'thank you' before disappearing amidst the protective cover of the trees.  
  
**************************************************************************** **  
  
"Where are they?" demanded Thranduil as he approached his son menacingly. The young Elf-mage had cast a spell upon the trees, prompting them to sway and hide the Hope of Men from even the keenest of Elven eyes.  
  
"Going home," replied Legolas, unmoving. He cared not what his father thought of his actions. After all, it was impossible for the King of Mirkwood to hate his unwanted child any more than he already did. There was only one person he needed to justify his actions to; and that was Haldir, the Elf whom Aragorn loved.  
  
"You traitor!" yelled the older Mirkwood Elf, face livid with anger as he raised his hand to strike his child.  
  
His hand was stilled before the blow landed. "Why, my Prince?" asked the Wizard with a frown. He had known Legolas since the younger Elf was a babe; he knew the Prince would never do something without careful deliberation. Perhaps, there was a good reason why the assassin had let Aragorn go.  
  
"I offered him a choice. This is his decision; I will honor it," replied Legolas, slightly surprised that the Istar had taken the time to understand his motivation. He had expected his allies to condemn him without having a second thought.  
  
"My Prince, Aragorn is the lost Hope of Men. It is of utmost importance that he aligns with us in our fight against evil," reasoned Gandalf quietly.  
  
"Regardless of who he is, Aragorn still has the right to choose how he lives his life. If we take away that freedom, he will be no different from a slave, and we no different from the tyrant we fight against," responded the Prince, eyes scanning the forest to search for the Lòrien Elf. He wanted Haldir to hear this discussion, in case they could not find an opportunity to speak privately. To the assassin's surprise, the Wizard smiled fondly at him and began walking away.  
  
"Mithrandir?" asked the King of Mirkwood in puzzlement as he laid an arm on the Wizard to halt his retreat.  
  
"Young Legolas has a point, my old friend. Aragorn will find his way back to us. I think, now I finally see what is meant to be," replied Gandalf enigmatically, offering Thranduil another riddle instead of a straight answer.  
  
As much as the King wanted to pursue the Hope of Men and bring him back to Mirkwood, he could not do so without the help of the Istar; his wayward child's magic was too powerful. It seemed that once again, Aragorn had slipped through their grasp, back into shadow. With a heavy heart, he conceded, "I respect your wise counsel, Mithrandir. We will return to the palace. Bind the traitor, he will be punished for his crimes."  
  
"Wait!" pleaded the Guardian of Lòrien, his heart breaking at the thought of being separated, perhaps forever, from his beloved Man. As quickly as his injuries allowed, Haldir moved in front of the Prince and begged, "Please, Legolas, if you've ever cared about me, stand aside."  
  
"I cannot. I am doing this for you, my friend. He bid me to give this to you before he left," the Prince answered as he retrieved Aragorn's signet ring and placed it into Haldir's hands. He knew the Lòrien Elf was a more suitable safe-keeper of the trinket than himself. After all, it was the silver-haired beauty that the Man truly loved. Yet, the Prince could not help a strange sadness from gripping his heart as the ring disappeared from his sight, concealed by the Lòrien Elf's slender fingers. Not wanting to analyze this irrational sensation, Legolas held his friend's gaze and continued, "He will return, Haldir. Have faith in him. Give him time."  
  
Lowering his eyes, the Lòrien Elf replied, "I understand."  
  
The Golden Elf was about to offer his friend a smile of encouragement when a sudden blow plunged him into the world of darkness. Catching the Prince as he fell, Haldir whispered, "I am sorry, my friend; but I cannot let Aragorn return to his previous life when he has the chance to start anew."  
  
Haldir placed his friend gently upon the forest floor before turning to face his fellow Elves. "I will set forth on a chase to bring back the Hope of Men. Who is with me?"  
  
Encouraged by the turn of the tide, Thranduil took his stand beside the Guardian of Lòrien. The other Elves followed suit and soon began their chase, leaving behind a sighing Wizard and an unconscious Prince. 


	10. Chapter Nine

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. It's all lies!

Author's note: I can't believe I haven't updated for more than a year. I really, really would like to apologize to all the readers. Real life just sort of got in the way.

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Chapter Nine:

An unnatural fog covered the forest; strange magic was at work this morning. Despite the warning in their hearts, the Elven scouts under Thranduil's command had ventured deep into the misty woods. They knew the importance of their mission; they must recover the lost Hope of Men. Only he could turn the tide of the war against the Dark Lord.

Labored breathing of fleeing Orcs soon drifted to the Elven King's keen ears; Aragorn was close. With a silent wave of his hand, he signaled his team to quicken their pace. Soon, the Man would be in their keeping once more.

As he neared his prey, the Elven King could not help but feel this unexpected turn of events was for the best. In allowing the Lord of Fire to escape, Legolas had branded himself a traitor. None would plead for mercy on the young Prince's behalf now; the King would finally be able to rid Middle Earth of the aberration that was his son.

A sudden gale roused the Sindar from his musing. Though Elves were immune to the cold, the very warmth of his blood seemed stolen away. Powerful dark magic sought to thwart their chase. Silent as an ultimate predator, Thranduil notched an arrow. Long years had he defended his lands from the creatures of Sauron; he knew danger lurked in the shadows ahead.

Haldir drew his weapons and moved forward, taking his stand beside the sovereign of Mirkwood. The Lòrien Elf would walk through fire and death for the one he loved. If there were to be a fight to free Aragorn from the Dark Lord's clutches, he would be at the forefront. He would make the Man see his true destiny.

Suddenly, a rain of black arrows flew forth from the depths of the forests; the soft wisps of their flight the only prelude to the ambush. Instinct honed by millennia of battle, Thranduil aptly dodged and pulled the Lòrien Elf beside him to safety behind an ancient tree.

"Take cover!" the King called out to his team. But the order came too late; not all the scouts had the Sindar's skill in battle. Many had been struck down by the enemies' trap. As the remaining warriors scrambled to carry their wounded out of danger, Thranduil knew the odds were against them.

There was no forewarning of an attack, no sound of movement or shifting shapes in the shadows. The Sindar knew that it was no small feat, to cast a spell so strong that could deceive the keen senses of the Elves so completely. Without Mithrandir, their foe was beyond them. To stay and fight would amount only to meaningless sacrifice.

With a heavy sigh, Thranduil announced his decision. "Evil sorcery is at work here. We must turn back."

Haldir felt his heart shattered at the Elven King's pronouncement. He wanted to argue, to insist on carrying on their pursuit, even if it would be at the cost of his life, but he knew the Sindar would not be swayed. He had no choice but to let Aragorn go. Fist clenched tight enough to draw blood, he nodded his assent.

"I am sorry, my friend," replied the Elven King as he laid a sympathetic hand on Haldir's shoulder. He knew the Lòrien Elf loved Aragorn; and he approved greatly of the match. He had no doubt the beautiful Guardian would be able to bring out the goodness buried deep inside the Man's heart.

But now, because of a single treacherous Elf, the Hope of Men and Middle Earth was lost to them once more. Face set in a harsh scowl, the Elven King added, "The traitor will pay dearly for this loss; this I can promise you. Let us go."

Though Haldir's heart bled, he did not despise the one who set Aragorn free. He knew Legolas truly believed the Man would renounce the Dark Lord and return. Though he did not share his friend's optimistic faith, he could not hate the Prince for doing what his heart felt was right. Besides, the assassin's death would not bring back the one he loved. He did not wish to lose a friend over what could not be changed. He would plead for mercy on Legolas' behalf when they reached the safety of their camp.

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Consciousness returned as a dull throb on the back of his head. Legolas' eyes snapped open when the pain jolted him sharply back to reality. Leaping to his feet, he scanned his surroundings. He was dismayed to note that only Mithrandir was with him; the Elven scouts must be off in pursuit of Aragorn and his 'soldiers'. Without the protection of his magic, he feared that the Man would be captured and the Orcs slaughtered.

Offering the young Elf a kind fatherly smile, the Grey Wizard said, "Ours are not the only powers that walk the woods this day, my Prince. Worry not for the Hope of Men; things have been set into motion that cannot be undone. We must hurry if you are to escape King Thranduil's wrath."

It was not in Legolas' nature to trust; he could not help but feel there was an ulterior motive behind the compassion in the Wizard's voice. "Why should you care what punishment my father deems fit for me?"

Holding the Prince's piercing ice-blue gaze, Gandalf said, "Because in my heart, I believe what you did was right."

With a soft sigh, Legolas answered, "Aragorn may be many things; but I know he is not an oath-breaker. He will return and reclaim what is his."

The Wizard chuckled as he noted the restrained passion lurking in the young Elf's voice. He was now certain his 'premonition' was right; Legolas' destiny was entwined with Aragorn's. It made perfect sense; that only the Hope of Men could touch the Ice Prince's heart; that only Legolas could bring out the Man in the ruthless Lord of Fire. "Yes, he will come back for the one he loves."

The Prince frowned at the strange smile Mithrandir cast his way. The Wizard could not possibly think that Aragorn cared for him. The limited intimacy they shared was no than a game on the Man's part. After all, no one would ever be truly interested in damaged goods like him when they had the love of a sweet, perfect Elf like Haldir. "Yes, for Haldir."

Gandalf shook his head and decided it was time to speak plainly. Now that he knew what was meant to be, he would do all in his power to help fate along. "I believe you are mistaken, my Prince. He may love the noble Guardian, but he and you are kindred spirits. You understand him as none ever did; and in return, he warms your heart. It is you he will come for because it is you who completes him."

A tingle of joy surged through Legolas at the Wizard's counsel before he ruthlessly crushed it. Aragorn had rekindled the frozen ashes of his heart, gave him a reason to feel again; this, he could no longer deny. But regardless of his newfound feelings, he could not covert the heart of the Hope of Men for his own. It would be a betrayal to his only friend; and his honor would never allow it. Softly, voice thick with sadness, the Prince replied, "It can never be."

The Istar's next words died as the trees announced the return of the pursuit party. They must leave immediately if Legolas were to escape certain death at his father's hands. "Come, my Prince. We will speak more when we are safely out of the King's reach."

Resolute, expression hardening once more into an emotionless mask, the Prince of Ice said, "I will not run, Mithrandir. I will face the consequences of my actions."

The Wizard would resort to physical methods of 'persuasion' if he must; but he preferred reason. "Do not throw away your life so lightly, young one! I sense that much will rely on you before the end."

Gathering his full powers, the assassin locked gazes with the ancient Istar. As a testament of his faith in Aragorn, he had to stay and face his accusers. He would not be coerced into shying from the responsibilities of his decision. "I thank you for your concern, Mithrandir, but I have made my choice. As your heart guided you to help me, mine bides me to stay. I will not deny it, even if the cost is my life."

Before another word was said, the Elven pursuit party arrived onto the scene. It was too late for an escape. Mithrandir sighed as the Prince allowed himself to be bound at Thranduil's command. The Wizard could only hope his wiles would be enough to keep Legolas safe until Aragorn returned. He had no doubt the Hope of Men would be lost to them forever if the young Prince died.


	11. Chapter Ten

Disclaimer: Not mine, no matter how I wish it.

Author's note: Sorry this update is later than promised. It's also a lot shorter than I thought too; but I do want to get it out as soon as possible. Sorry.

Author's note 2: To answer jeswin's question of why Legolas was imprisoned for so long though he should have the power to escape, that's mainly because he doesn't care where he is. He lives in his own 'personal hell' anyway before his imprisonment, so there really isn't any incentive for him to escape. Either way, dungeon or escape, he'd still be alone and viewed as a 'freak'. That's partly why he doesn't bother to speak for himself too. At that point, he knew that no matter what he said, his father would never stop hating him.

-

Chapter Ten:

A sudden flash of light blinded Aragorn and his Orcs, forcing them to halt their escape. When sight returned, a lone figure, hooded in a white cloak stood before them. At a snap of his gnarly fingers, a battalion of Uruks left the concealing shadows of the woods to surround the Man and his group.

"Saruman" Aragorn whispered with narrowed eyes. He never trusted the Fallen White Wizard; he could sense ill will emanating from the Istar in waves.

"Aragorn" replied the evil Wizard as he removed his cloak to regard the Man squarely. "Lord Sauron is most displeased with your 'disappearance' from Dol Guldur. He has bid me to find you and bring you before him at once."

The Man watched as Saruman's soldiers drew their weapons; they were poised to forcibly take him home. But why? Had the all-seeing Eye sensed the conflict within him? But if his sire had seen into his heart, he must know Aragorn would not betray his people and join with the Elves. Why would his father give the Istar leave to treat him like a traitor? It made absolutely no sense.

A quick calculation of the Uruks' numbers told Aragorn that resistance against the wizard's minions would be futile. There were too many for his men to fight. Glaring at the White Wizard, he said evenly "There is no need for theatrics, Saruman. My 'disappearance' from home was not by my choice; and there is nothing I want more than a chance to speak with father on this matter. My men and I were on our way home before your arrival; we will join you as my sire commands."

-

As armed Uruks crowded around their leader, the Orcs shared a silent frown. While the Orcs had all sworn to serve the Great Eye, their first loyalty were always to Aragorn. They were sorely tempted to protest the Uruk-Hai's lack of respect for the Dark Lord 's heir, but the Man had spoken. They had no choice but to obey orders and join the Fallen Istar's group without incidence.

A growing sense of unease settled over them as Saruman's horde proceeded to bind their leader's hands. They knew Lord Sauron was ruthless and cruel to a fault; he would not hesitate to kill his own heir, if he were to doubt the Man's loyalty. While they knew their leader would never turn against them, they feared the Dark Lord would mistake the closeness between Aragorn and his Elven lover for treachery. They feared for the Man's safety.

As Aragorn's second-in-command, Garekk was well aware that Saruman's horde outnumbered their leader's loyal followers by two to one in Dol Guldur. Should the Dark Lord condemn the Man, the Orcs would not have the strength to protest the decision and protect their leader. They would need reinforcement elsewhere, if the worst should happen.

As the group marched towards Dol Guldur, Garekk deliberated the options. Their archrivals in Thranduil's realm were bent on acquiring Aragorn's allegiance; perhaps, the Elves would fight to keep the Man safe. But he had no means of contacting the Eldar; and even if he could send a message, those self-serving immortals would never believe it as a genuine call for aid. They would think the request a trap and dismiss it.

The other Orcs had little trouble guessing what was on their general's mind. At the risk of rousing the Wizard's suspicion, the captain of the Man's elite guards approached Garekk. "There is one who will help." Narod remembered the assassin's powers and sympathy towards his kind; he had no doubt the Prince would champion their quest to protect Aragorn.

The Orc general nodded in acknowledgement as he consolidated his scheme. He needed a valid excuse to leave one of them behind to deliver their message to the assassin. Noting Narod's limp, he knew he had found the perfect pretext. Drawing his sword against the wounded Orc, he spat"You will not hold us back any longer"

The captain of Aragorn's guards understood what must be done. He pretended to reach for his weapon as the other Orc plunged the blade deep into his belly. Pain exploded from his wound; he let out a cry of agony and collapsed unmoving to the ground. Now, all Narod could do was lie in wait and hope with all his heart that their charade had deceived the wise Fallen Istar.

-

Aragorn heard his second-in-command's sudden exclamation, but he could not act fast enough to stop the Orc's strike. He turned only in time to watch the captain of his guards fell. But this could not be; though Orcs were bloodthirsty and ruthless by nature, he had trained his men to value camaraderie over individual needs. They would never turn on each other over something so trivial.

The Man bit his lip in anguish and turned away from the scene. Before Legolas kidnapped him from home, everything made perfect sense. He was the Dark Lord 's heir; he commanded the finest Orc Army in history; and he was all set to conquer Middle Earth by his father's side. But now, not only was his heart in turmoil over his allegiance to his sire; his people were killing each other like savage lawless beasts. The world had turned into a place he hardly knew.

How he wished he could hate the Prince for turning his life upside down! But he could not. Even now, he still felt the coolness of the assassin's knife slung around his belt, reminding him that no matter which path he chose, Legolas would be there in spirit to watch over him. Though he would not admit it, he would forever be grateful for the understanding and unconditional trust the Prince had shown him. From this point on, whatever happens, Legolas would be in his heart always.

"How strange; I was under the impression that your Orcs are quite loyal to each other."

The Wizard's comment roused Aragorn from his musing. In a quiet voice, laden with resignation, he answered"So was I."

Without sparing Saruman another glance, the bound Man recommenced his march towards Dol Guldur. If his return home meant death by his sire's command, so be it. At least then, he would have his answers; he would know that his lover and the Prince were right. One way or another, when he reached Dol Guldur, the pieces of his life would fall into place again. He could hardly wait.

-

Tall and defiant, Legolas stood as he faced his father. The Elven scouts had returned empty-handed; Aragorn and his Orcs were safe. The Prince's rekindled heart rejoiced; yet, all the while, his face remained an icy mask as he held his sire's furious glare. If death were his fate, he would gladly accept it. Perhaps his sacrifice would convince Haldir to not lose hope and to trust in Aragorn.

The Elven King could not bear his despicable child's cold steady gaze any longer. He was the Ruler of these Woodland Realms; it was his right to punish the traitor as he saw fit. He had no obligation to offer his hated son a chance to defend himself in Council. Drawing his sword, Thranduil made ready to execute his own flesh and blood.

"No, my Lord" pleaded the Lòrien Elf as he held the Sindar's arm.

Staring at Haldir in disbelief, the Elven King asked"Why do you plea for mercy on his behalf, noble Guardian"

"Legolas saved me from Dol Guldur; I owe him my life" replied the Lòrien Elf quietly as he offered his friend a small smile despite his grief for his lost love.

"But it is because of him that you lost the one you love" argued the Sindar, eager to rid Middle Earth of the hateful abomination of a son.

"Yes, but I do not begrudge him for following his heart" replied Haldir as he tightened his grip on the Eldar's arm.

A soft smile graced the icy Prince's features as he reached out and touched the Lòrien Elf's hand. With a small shake of his golden head, he whispered"Thank you, mellon nîn; your forgiveness means the world to me. I chose this path to give Aragorn a chance to choose his; I am prepared to follow it till the end. For as long as you have hope, my death, by my father's hand, will not be in vain."

The quiet passion that belied Legolas' voice was not lost on the astute Lòrien Elf. He knew not what occurred while he was unconscious, but he knew his lover had achieved the impossible: thwarted the Prince of Ice's heart. It was clear that Legolas cared for the Man; Haldir could not help but wonder if the feeling was mutual. Was the Golden Elf the reason for Aragorn's promise to return? Was the Man's signet ring, his only memento of his lover, meant for someone else?

The Guardian of Lòrien was never one prone to jealousy; yet now, as these unwanted question flitted through his mind, an uncharitable part of him wanted to release Thranduil's arm. If the Prince were gone, there would be no competition for Aragorn's heart when the Man returned. Haldir would bind himself to his lover; and he would fight by the side of the restored Hope of Men. Such a future would be a fulfillment of all of his dreams.

Yet, Haldir's hand remained frozen in place. Legolas had done so much for him without ever asking for recompense. He had saved him from Dol Guldur, extracted a promise to return from a Man who still believed himself Sauron's heir. No matter what the future held, the Lòrien Elf could not allow his friend to sacrifice himself so needlessly. "Please, my Lord, show mercy."

Till now, Gandalf had remained silently, observing the scene with narrowed eyes. He had known Haldir for many centuries and had always thought of him as compassionate and altruistic to a fault. He had expected the Lòrien Elf to plead for mercy on the Prince's behalf, despite his eagerness to recapture the Man; and Haldir had not disappointed him. Yet, judging from Thranduil's resolute growl, the Wizard knew the Guardian's words had fallen to deaf ears.

It was time for him to act. Drawing himself to full height, he gathered his powers around him. "Do not be so eager to deal out death in judgment, my Lord. Even the wisest cannot see all ends."

The King of Mirkwood had known Mithrandir for many years; he had always respected the Istar's wisdom. Yet, for the first time, he was tempted to disregard the Wizard's counsel. He knew the Istar was on his abominable son's side; and he could not see the logic of the decision. He wondered if, like Saruman, the Grey Wizard's will had turned into madness.

Seeing the uncertainty in the King's eyes, the Wizard proposed"My Lord, I only ask that you call Council to decide Prince Legolas' fate, nothing more. If his death be the will of the Council, I will personally see it done." Gandalf knew it would take weeks before a Council could convene. There would be ample time to send a message to Aragorn. He was certain the Man would return to save the young Prince.

Thranduil let out a sigh of annoyance and lowered his weapon. Though he hated relenting, he knew it was wise to avoid possible confrontations with the Wizard. He would allow his despicable child to live another day. "Very well, Mithrandir. I will respect your counsel. Let us return to my palace where the traitor's fate will be decided."

Haldir and Mithrandir shared a small smile at their 'victory', but the Prince's expression remained frigid. Truth be told, he wished his friends had not succeeded. Death held no fear for him; it never had. It would be an easier path; he would never have to see the Man who had taught him how to feel again in his only friend's arms. He could only hope his resolve was strong enough to resist the temptation of telling Aragorn these strange unsolicited feelings if they should ever meet again. But regardless of what the future held, he knew that one thing was for certain: no matter the cost, he would ensure the happiness of the ones he 'loved'.


End file.
